The Navigator's Tale
by Sailor Heva
Summary: A chronicle that contains the strange tale of a navigator who sailed around the world with Magellan. His name was Mendoza and this is his story.
1. The Inscription

I am writing this message in the great Cathedral of Barcelona for you, Niño, now newly christened Esteban.

Many years ago, a strange young man named Mendoza came to my father asking for help. He was a European stranded in a foreign land. With him was a young baby, you, only a few years old. My father, the captain of a Portuguese merchant vessel, had lost some of his crew in a violent storm and was glad to accept this unexpected help. After many adventures, this Mendoza became our friend. He even saved my life. Mendoza eventually entrusted me with this account of his life and his remarkable voyage with Magellan.

I hope Mendoza will soon come to reclaim you and this book. But, if something happens and he does not, Father Rodriguez will know the truth of how you came to be here.

Farewell Esteban, Criança do Sol (1).

A. C.

January 31, 1523

* * *

Author's Notes

1) Child of the Sun in Portuguese

I finally decided to post it. Here is it folks, the first fan fiction I ever wrote. True to my future form it is nearly a novel in length and was my consuming passion for a very long time. I started writing it six years ago or so and created it over the course of aboutthree years. I had just started college and spent hours combing the campus libraries for suitable information to make the story more real and accurate. I never stopped learning during that time, both about writing anda period in history that I love. Truth be told, I still am learning as I continue working and anyone who has read Guidelines will immediately see the differences in style and presentation, although the historical elements remain.

Anyway, I hope those who read it will enjoy it. This story has been posted on my website for a number of years, but the version will have a couple of extra features. I intend to post it slowly and clean it up as I do. While I won't change the style or presentation, I will fix any grammatical or other errors that I find. I also plan to add some notes to the end of each chapter about the inspiration for various elements, the section that are truly historical, or other information that I think is interesting or useful. This will probably only be for my own satisfaction as _The Mysterious Cities of Gold_ is an old '80s series with a small, but very loyal,fan base. If anyone reads this work without having seen the series, I highly recommend trying to get hold of it. I think it is well worth your time. :D

Questions, comment, and constructive criticisms are welcomed and eagerly awaited.


	2. Entry 1

**Port of San Julian(****1)****. Winter Quarters. April 14, 1520. **

My name is Mendoza. I am writing this at the request of the Captain-General Magellan, as part of my tutelage in Navigation under his guidance.

As Magellan said to me when he gave me this book, which was one of his own blank logbooks, "A good navigator must be able to record his journey so that others may follow in his footsteps. Use this book to practice writing."

"What should I write about, Captain?" I asked.

"Anything you like. A history, perhaps a journal like your friend Pigafetta(2). Just fill the book, Mendoza."

A history? Of what? My history? A journal? Though just past my twentieth birthday, I have already lived through many different experiences and this voyage promises to add many more. A history of myself and my experiences on this voyage? It seems a self-centered thing to do, but Magellan has promised that no one else, not even he, will read it. I am sitting on the deck of the Trinidad(3) and can see on shore the gruesome evidence of mutiny and my own actions to prevent it. And in doing so, I have been indirectly responsible for the death of my last living relative. Perhaps, in writing these things, I can lay to rest some ghosts of my past and move on into the future.

But where should I begin? With the start of Magellan's expedition and how I came to be a member of his crew? Or should I begin with my uncle, Luis de Mendoza, whose remains I can, even now, see on the shore? No. Maria, who raised me like I was her son after the death of my mother, told me once that there is only one beginning in our lives. So I will start with her, my parents and my birth.

**Spain 1480-1512. **

I was born in a small village near Seville in 1500. My father, Diego de Mendoza, was a ship's captain and expert navigator. A native of Granada, he left the home of his father and a position as the second son of a struggling family to go to Barcelona to become his own master. Although he owned no vessels himself, my father's services were highly sought after. Yet for many years he sailed for only one man. Don Antonio de Medina, a respected gentleman and wealthy merchant, helped my father study his trade to become a captain rather than remain a common seaman. They were friends for years until my father and Don Antonio's daughter, Elena, announced they wished to be married. Despite their friendship, Don Antonio forbade the marriage and refused to continue employing my father. He believed Diego's station in life was beneath his daughter. But Elena, my mother, defied Don Antonio and married Diego. In retaliation, Don Antonio disowned her and would not give them her dowry or inheritance. Only Elena's servant and friend, Maria Zuñiga, who had grown up with my mother, came away with her.

Don Antonio used his influence to prevent anyone in Barcelona from employing my father. Unable to find work, Diego was forced to return to Granada and to his older brother Luis. So as not to be close to Luis, with whom my father had never gotten along, Diego, Elena and Maria settled near Seville in Arroyo, a pueblecito(4) of only about a hundred people. Soon after, my father began sailing again with his brother. Columbus had discovered the New World only a few years before and experienced sailors were in high demand. Because of this, my father was away from home for long periods of time. He was even away on a voyage when I was born and, later, when my mother died. I was six.

I remember little of her, but know she was very beautiful. Her hair was long and dark but her eyes were blue. She had a gentle disposition and was well educated. I remember her trying to teach me numbers and letters. Maria, who had learned with my mother, had better success later, but was less gentle.

An epidemic of fever had swept through Seville and its surrounding villages. Many children were sent to the Cathedral to protect them from the sickness. When my mother became ill, I too was sent away. At the Cathedral, I met another boy from Arroyo whose father had also been afflicted by the disease. His name was Julian Escobar(5) and he would become my best friend.

A few days later, a friend of my family came to the Cathedral with news that my mother was worse and that a priest should go to our home. I, not by accident, overheard and asked if my mother was going to die. The woman took hold of my shoulders and saying, "Let us pray for her," and tried to lead me away. But I broke free and ran all the way back to my home.

I burst into my mother's room, but stopped just short of her bed. I thought she had already died. She was so pale and still, but after a moment I saw that she was still breathing. I moved close to her side and took her hand. It was cold, no longer burning with fever nor warm with life.

"Madre! Mother, please don't die!" I whispered, not sure if she could even hear me. "Please, mother, I need you!"

Her eyes fluttered open and she held onto my hands with surprising strength. "Don't be too sad."

"Please, mother, you must get better. I will be alone without you."

She smiled, but her eyes were sad. "You have your father and Maria."

At that, I felt Maria's hands on my shoulders. She had been standing nearby, yet I had not noticed her until that moment. I stiffened, expecting her to pull me away, but she only stood by, comforting me with her presence.

"And I will always be with you." My mother then turned to Maria. "Take care of him. Please, my friend. Please take good care of him."

"I will, I promise you Elena. I will love him like my own son." As she said this, I felt something wet fall against my cheek. I glanced up. Maria was crying softly. I had never seen her cry before.

My mother smiled again, this time content and looked back to me. "I love you," she whispered, and her hand fell from mine. I was crying too hard to reply. Moments later the priest arrived to administer the Last Rights and in the early hours of the following morning, my mother died.

-----

A few weeks later, my father returned home and received the news that mother was gone. I wanted to be angry with him for not being there, but I couldn't. Looking back he punished himself more than I ever could have. He visited her grave only once with me. "You must always be strong, Blas," he said while we were there. "Sometimes, you have to keep busy just to survive."

I believe he was saying this more to himself than to me. I didn't think it was possible for him to be away more than he had been, yet somehow he managed it. I saw him maybe once or twice a year until I was nine when he began allowing me to come with him on short voyages. When I didn't accompany him, it was our tradition to say farewell on the dock before his departure. While at home, Maria had managed kept me busy and, for the most part, out of trouble.

As I said before, Julian and I became friends. When I wasn't at sea with my father, I was with him. His own father had died in the same epidemic as my mother. His mother never recovered from her illness or the loss of her husband. Don Flipe, the wealthiest man in our village made it possible for Julian to attend the seminary at St. Jude's. What Maria couldn't teach me in reading and writing, Julian did. And in return, I made sure he didn't always have his head in a book and taught him to fight and swim a little. We were as different as night and day. About the same size, although I was two years older than him, he was blond, blue eyed and fair while I was dark haired with eyes that were nearly black and skin many shades duskier than his. We also had very different dreams.

When I was eleven, nearly twelve, my father and uncle were hired be captains in a fleet being sent to the New World. For some time my father had promised to take me on a longer voyage and I was excited when he said I would accompany him as his ship's cabin boy. But days before we were to sail, he changed his mind. He explained, "This voyage is too long and too dangerous for you, Blas. You are still too young."

"But I will be twelve soon," I argued, "and I know many cabin boys are younger than I am now when they begin sailing(6)."

"I'm sorry. Maybe next time," my father replied.

I was so angry with him that I didn't go to the docks to see him off. Instead, I stood on a hill over looking the Guadalquivir River and watched until his ship disappeared.

Little did I know that it would be my last chance to see him.

-----

That summer began typically for Seville, that is to say, hot and humid. I usually spent the mornings helping Maria or on the docks watching the ships and listening to the sailors' stories. Later, I would walk back to the village just when Julian was coming home from the Seminary. We tried to stay cool swimming in the river and passed time dreaming of our futures. I tried to convince him to join me in the adventures I had planned.

"We will sail to New World and discover strange lands. We will find gold and other treasures and become famous throughout Europe."

"I don't want to be an adventurer," Julian replied. "I want to become a priest and serve our village."

"But you could still come to the New World, Julian, and be a priest there," I said, trying to persuade him, as I had many times before. "You could convert the people there."

"You know me, Blas. I could never sail on a ship. I get seasick standing on the beach watching the waves." We both laughed and I gave up the argument for the day. We both wanted to go home.

-----

The summer was passing and my father didn't return when we expected.(7) It is not unusual for him to be delayed, but June through October can be a dangerous time to sail to and from the West Indies. _His fleet must sail before September_, I thought, _or risk violet storms_.8 Time passed. Maria and I grew more concerned with each day. Had they been forced to stay in Hispaniola9 for some unknown reason? Or were they even then trying to sail across the Atlantic. Each day I walked to the docks in Seville hoping that my father had arrived and each night I returned home disappointed and afraid. Another month passed. The summer grew hotter and hotter. I continued dividing my time between the docks and our home. Maria tried to keep me distracted with studies and chores, but I was a poor student and helper, having little patience for anything or anyone, even Maria and Julian.

Finally, in early September, I returned home on a dark, cloudy evening that threatened rain, to find a familiar carriage, which belonged to my uncle, at our gate. I rushed inside, believing that my father had returned. Instead I found my uncle alone, besides Maria who looked far older than her thirty years. Dread filled me. I would have turned and run, but my legs would not obey me. My uncle was a hard man. Tall, with deep-set dark eyes and strong features.(10) He resembled my father physically, but my father never had the cold, cruel gaze that was now fixed on me.

"Blas, come here," he commanded.

I stood were I was, my legs seeming to have taken root on the threshold.

"Come here," he repeated. I could feel the threat in that command, but still couldn't move.

My uncle came towards me. I wet my dry lips and tried to speak. "My father..." I croaked.

"...is lost, along with his ship," Luis de Mendoza said, his tone cold with anger. I flinched as if he had struck me. As he took another menacing step towards me, I forced my legs to work. I turned and stumbled into the night, my tears blinding me more than the dark. My father was lost! Lost! I vaguely remember hearing the angry calls of my uncle and the pleading ones of Maria, but I couldn't stop. It began to rain and I was forced to take shelter in the hollow of a dead tree. I passed the night cold and shivering, alone with my thoughts and memories. The dawn was grey and dreary. I didn't come out until the following evening when hunger and thirst forced me from my hiding place. I found myself near the banks of the river, swollen from the heavy rain. I wandered, not knowing where I was going until I found myself in the village. I had no choice but to return home. I didn't see any sign that my uncle was there as I approached the house so I went inside and found it silent as a tomb.

"Maria," I called. My voice, though weak from weariness, echoed through the empty rooms. I searched each of them, calling for Maria, but I was alone. In despair, feeling abandoned by everyone, I collapsed on my bed and fell into a troubled sleep. I was awakened by a hand pulling me roughly to my feet.

"How dare you," a voice growled. Looking up, I stared into the cold eyes of my uncle. "How dare you disobey me and run away." I had no voice with which to reply, not that it would have made a difference. The back of his hand struck me across my face, knocking me to the floor. I remember little of what followed. It was the first beating I received at my uncle's hand.

The first, but not the last.

* * *

Author's Notes

1) In southern Argentina.

2)Just a warning now, there are a ton of characters in this story. Some of them are historic figures; some are MCoG characters; and some I just made up. For a complete list of who's who, you can find it on my homepage in the fan fiction area.

3) Magellan's Capitana or flagship, which was one of five ships given to him for this voyage.

4) A very small town.

5) Those who have may have read Scott O'Dell's Feathered Serpent series will recognize this name. I couldn't resist adding him to the story (and this is more than a cameo appearance as you will find out in Part II). For those who may not know, Scott O'Dell wrote _The King's Fifth_, the novel upon which MCoG was loosely based. The Feathered Serpent books also involve the conquest period of the Americas and I have always felt they were also used as inspiration for the series hence the crossover.

6) Sailors began their careers far earlier than now. Columbus himself preferred sailing with young men, 13 to 18, rather than older men because they didn't complain as much.

7) A little information that may be helpful. It could take as little as 21 days to sail from Spain to the New World.

8) In the North Atlantic around the Caribbean and the Gulf of Mexico, hurricane season lasts between June and November with most occurring in September.

9) Hispaniola is the old name for the island that now is divided into Haiti and the Dominican Republic.

10) I have made some fanart to go along with this story, including a picture of Luis de Mendoza. These pics are located on my homepage in the fan art section.

**Inspiration**: As I created the outline of this story originally, I didn't want Mendoza to be from Barcelona as it would give him too great a familiarity with the city and its inhabitants. I still don't believe that he could have somehow missed the connection of Esteban, a boy who could command the sun, and the child he had rescued while a part of Magellan's fleet. Seville was a logical secondary location as it was a major city and port. However, I wanted him to have a connection to the Barcelona, hence I madehis mother and Maria originally from this city.

I also gave a lot of thought to Mendoza's jaded views about death. I felt that this must have begun in his childhood and that he continually had to deal with painful losses during his life. His nasty uncle Luis de Mendoza I created as further reason for his sometimes dark attitudes.

**History**: Luis de Mendoza is an actual historic person who I decided to tie Mendoza to for added story depth. I actually debated with myself about this for a long time, because I was hesitant to malign a person that I didn't have much personal information on. So, dear readers, consider Luis's action and interaction with Mendoza to be purely fiction, but know that I have faithfully described his actions in Magellan's fleet as well as his fate.


	3. Entry 2

(Blink, blink) I have a reviewer? Wow, I got a review on this story! Thank you very much Lyndsi05 for your kind words and hope you will continue to enjoy the story. If you would like help finding the series again, email me privately and I can probably help. Cheers!

* * *

**Port of San Julian. Winter Quarters. May 3, 1520.**

Magellan has kept everyone busy these last weeks. We have built shelters on the sandy beaches and are searching for provisions, the lack of which has forced the Captain to cut rations in half. We explore the area almost daily. Magellan hopes to find friendly Indians to trade with, but if any live in this place they have kept themselves well hidden.

One of our first tasks is rummaging. Magellan intends to careen each of the ships, remove the rotted planks, caulk the seams, and tar the hulls below the water line. To do this, we have to remove everything from the vessels and place their contents in the shelters. Already we have done all of this to the smallest ship in the fleet, the _Santiago_, and she will continue exploring to the south. Magellan hopes to find a strait or the cape of the continent and has ordered Captain Serrano to continue the search.

When I am not busy with my duties, the Captain-General teaches me navigation. This was his first lecture, as best I can recall it:

"When a captain sails his ship out of the sight of land, he must have some method of navigation to calculate his course and nature helps him with this in several ways. For example, the sun rises in the east and sets in the west. So, if the dawn appears on the left side of a ship, she must be sailing roughly south. At night a more accurate guide is the Pole Star. Unlike the sun, the Pole Star does not change its position by the hour and remains constantly in the north. As you go farther north, the Pole Star climbs higher in the sky; as you go south, it sinks lower. By marking north, the Pole Star indicates a ship's direction and by its height in the sky it also indicates her position between the North Pole and the Equator."

And so it goes on. Each day I learn something new. Finding latitude and longitude with the cross-staff and the sand-glasses. Dead reckoning positions using others' experiences with winds, currents, and my own instincts to estimate the distance and direction since leaving port. Learning about the compass, the most important of navigation tools, and keeping it magnetized with lodestone(1). The Captain says I am a quick study.

I have always been a fast learner. Sometimes, your survival depends on it.

**Granada 1512-1516.**

I awoke in a strange place. Maria was beside me, tending to my bruises and cuts. As she did so, she told me what shed learned about my father.

The fleet was delayed in Hispaniola until late July. Despite the signs of bad weather and against the advice of my father, the admiral of the fleet had refused to take shelter. The fleet was struck by a storm just out of port. Every ship was lost but that of my uncle, which limped back to Hispaniola, was repaired and eventually sailed again for Spain.

Weeks passed and my uncle sold our home in Arroyo. I didn't even get to say goodbye to Julian before Luis brought Maria and I to his house in Granada. I spent the next three years in that house and it brings me little joy to recall them. If I could have found a way to leave and take Maria with me, I wouldn't have spent a day there.

My uncle believed I was "spoiled" and "lacked discipline." He also believed that the way to correct this was through labor and severe punishments. I worked for him as if I were his slave rather than his nephew. And I wasn't the only one he terrorized. The whole house lived in fear of his wrath and peace only came when he was away.

We lived on what we could find. Luis paid Maria practically nothing and we rarely had steady meals. Maria could have left at any time, but she wouldn't leave me. I felt guilty for being her burden, her only reason for staying, and I gathered what I could by any means possible. I was an adept thief at the age of 14. I learned on the streets and back alleys of Granada and took whatever I could. What could not be eaten could be sold. I also searched through Luis's belongings whenever I could. I was only caught once and the punishment I received was severe. I was beaten to within an inch of my life and didn't leave my bed for weeks. I learned my lesson very well that time. I became more cautious.

Three years passed.

I was 16 and desperately trying to find a way out of that house. Out of Granada. I could have signed on as a sailor with any of the ships in the nearby ports, but I couldn't leave Maria. Shortly after coming to Granada I had made a promise to Maria and myself. "Someday I will escaped from here and find my fortune across the sea. I will return with gold and glory. We will have a grand house, larger than Luis's. We will be no man's servants. My destiny will be my own and not dictated by another. You will never work again, Maria, and my servants will take care of you. We will be free."

"A nice dream, mi niño," Maria would always reply. "I know you can make it a reality, but remember, gold will never replace your family, bring you happiness or give you peace."

It still makes me smile thinking of how naive she was.

-----

One day, when I least expected it, a way out of Granada was presented to me.

I was wandering along the docks on the river Genil on an errand for my uncle. The docks were crowded with sailors, merchants, travelers and other people going about their business.

Suddenly, the crowd began to part, furiously. People were throwing themselves aside, desperately trying to get out of the way of an out of control carriage. I was buffeted from all sides and had nowhere to go. So I did the only thing I could, thinking all the while that this was the most foolish thing I had ever done. I took my position in front of the carriage, watching the coachman desperately try to regain control and avoid the crowds of people. I braced myself as the horses thundered nearer, waiting for my chance. At the last moment before the horses ran me down, I jumped aside and grabbed the side of the coach as it passed. The force nearly ripped my arms from my body. Struggling desperately, I used all of my strength to pull myself up next to the astonished driver. The reigns had fallen from his hands and I bent to retrieve them. I was running out of time and dock, the fast moving waters of the river just ahead of me. I grabbed the reigns and pulled back hard. The coachman shook himself out of his stupor and together we stopped the horses with few feet to spare.

As the crowd applauded and praised me for my bravery, a beautiful young woman stepped shakily from the coach. I recognized her almost immediately. Señorita Ayala Pedroza, the daughter of one of the wealthiest men in Granada. And she nearly fainted into my arms.

"You saved my life, Señor," she said breathlessly. "I am eternally grateful. How can I repay you?" I replied that wanted nothing from her. "You must have some reward for your courage," she insisted. "What is your name?"

"Blas de Mendoza."

"Mendoza?" She said thoughtfully. "Are you a relative of Captain Luis de Mendoza?" I nodded. "Ah, "she exclaimed, "I know him. You are his nephew?" I nodded again. "Then perhaps I will see you again."

I returned to the house that evening, receiving the expected reprimand and punishment from Luis. I thought nothing more would come from this encounter. Señorita Ayala, it was rumored, was leaving Granada to be married to a man of aristocratic ancestry in Toledo(2) and I doubted that she would even remember me.

I was wrong.

-----

A few weeks after the incident, I returned home and found a familiar carriage, the one that had nearly killed me, at the door. I entered the house to find one of the servants waiting impatiently and I was immediately led me to the parlor. I knocked on the door and Uncle Luis ordered me to enter. I expected to find Señorita Ayala with him, but to my surprise there was a man instead. He was tall, perhaps five to seven years older than me, with dark hair and a beard cut in a popular style. _He must be Ayala's fiancé_, I thought.

"It seems you are quite the hero, Blas," Luis said warmly though his eyes were stone cold. "Señor Gomez has just been telling me how you saved his fiancé, Lady Ayala." I remained silent.

"Indeed," the man called Gomez nodded, confirming Luis words. "Which is why I am here. It is rare to find such courage. Strength and quick thinking are the qualities I am in need of. I want this young man to join my regiment."

My uncle and I both looked up in surprise. "You must be joking," Luis laughed.

"I am not," Gomez said more sternly. "I was impressed when Ayala told me how this young man came to her aid and I agreed that her savior could be a great asset to the King's army. I intend to train him to become an officer."

"It is impossible. I won't allow it!" Luis answered angrily.

"And why not!" Gomez's temper was also rising. "It is unusual for a man of low birth to be given this opportunity. And it is his decision, not yours. He is old enough to make his own choice."

With that, they both turned their gaze on me. All this time I had been standing quietly, thinking. I looked from one man to the other. "It is difficult to make such an important decision so quickly, Señor Gomez." I said carefully. I could feel Luis's eyes burning into me as I spoke. "Would you be so good as to give me a few days to decide?"

"Very well," Gomez replied. "But I leave for Toledo in a week. I must have your answer by then."

Gomez was hardly in his carriage when Luis turned on me. "You will not go with him, nephew."

Despite the trouble it could cause, I had to say, "But uncle, you always say I need discipline. Is there a better place to get it than in the army?"

"This isn't a joke, Blas," he replied, his voice low and dangerous. "You will go to Señor Gomez tomorrow and express your gratitude for this offer, but that you must refuse. You will do this or you and 'others' in this household will regret it."

That was the end of it. I knew what he was threatening. I went to Gomez the next day and said exactly what Luis had wanted. "I don't know what hold he has over you, but these are obviously your uncle's words, not your own," Gomez said in response. "One day you will have to follow your own course and break this hold he has over you. When you do, my offer still stands." I thanked him and returned to the home of my uncle, his words still echoing through my mind.

-----

A few months later, Luis left unexpectedly on a voyage to Barcelona and the household took full advantage of his departure.

I, myself, used this opportunity to search his office. I was looking through papers on Luis's desk when, by chance, a few fell to the ground. As I bent to retrieve them, I noticed something odd in one corner of the desk. A piece of wood unlike the rest of the desk an imperfection I had never noticed before. It was stained to look like the same wood but upon closer inspection was clearly not. Curious, I gently touched the piece. I was quite taken aback when it clattered to the floor revealing a hollow niche carved into the desk. Looking inside, I discovered many papers carefully placed within. I pulled one free and found it was a letter on fine, expensive paper. The signature at the bottom burned into my mind. Don Antonio de Medina. My mother's father, my grandfather.

I sat down and began to read. The letters were a correspondence between my uncle and grandfather that were dated from the death of my father to the present, the latest being received shortly before my uncle's departure. I was surprised to learn that my grandfather was very ill and would soon die himself. They stated that he wished me to receive an inheritance. From the stories Maria had told me, I thought that Don Antonio would never forgive my mother for disobeying him and her inheritance would be given to her brother. But the letters reveled that her brother too had perished, unmarried and with no children. It seemed I was the only one left to receive my grandfather's fortune.

At first, I was of course, excited. I would be rich. Maria and I could leave Granada and I would have the freedom to do as I wished. But the next letter I read changed my joy to dread. I could only guess what Luis had written from the responses of Don Antonio, but it seemed from my Grandfather's letters that Luis had said I was a sickly boy, to weak to leave Granada. This confused me. I had always been healthy and was certainly not the invalid my uncle had seemed to portray me to be.

Then, I understood it. Luis wanted my inheritance for himself. The more I pondered this the clearer it became that I was in danger. The only way for my uncle to have this fortune was to either keep me in the dark about its existence, or to kill me after he collected it on my behalf.

What could I do? Where could I go?

I took the letters to Maria and explained what I had learned. "Luis must have left Granada to collect the fortune and when he returns, he will no longer need me."

"You must leave Granada, Blas," Maria grasped my arm and spoke in a hurried whisper that quaked with fear. "If you don't go, he will kill you I am certain."

"But where can I go?" I said despairingly.

"That nobleman, Gomez, why don't you go to him?"

"But what about you? If Luis returns to find me gone, he will take his revenge on you. You have to leave as well. We will take anything we can find of value and leave Granada," I said thinking. "But can I take you to Toledo?"

"No, not Toledo. I will go to Barcelona," Maria replied.

"But Luis is there!"

"Not for long, soon he will return," she said with new calmness in her voice. "And I have family there who can help me."

"I don't want to be parted from you. You have been a mother to me for so long."

"Niño, I know of no other way to keep us both safe."

I nodded knowing that what she said was true, but hating it.

We traveled back to Seville where I was able to book passage to Barcelona for Maria. We said farewell on the docks two days later. "Our Lord will watch over and protect you, niño. I will pray for you everyday." With that we parted and I didn't think I would ever see her again.

That afternoon, I found myself making my way out of Seville on the road to Toledo.

* * *

Author's Notes 

1) A cross-staff is used to find the latitude (sextant and several other instruments also are used for this purpose) of a ship. This was relatively simple, but finding longitude was far more difficult. Before chronometers were invented (see the show _Longitude_ for an interesting dramatization of this event) the only was to calculate how far east or west a vessel had traveled was to use a system called dead reckoning, which is the art of finding a position by calculating the point of departure (i.e., the last known point of latitude and longitude), the course (as shown by the compass), the speed and the distance traveled according to the log, and the time elapsed. Sandglasses, basically big egg timers , were used for this purpose and to tell time on a ship. The ship's bell is struck every half-hour during a watch. In a watch that started at 12noon, 12:30 is one bell, 1 o'clock is 2 bells and so on to 4:00 o'clock, which is 8 bells. At 4:30 one bell is again struck. "How many bells have gone?" is a sailor's way of asking the time.

2) Toledo is the old capital of Spain, or rather where the royal court was held as Spain as a whole unit really didn't exist at this time. Later, during the reign of Philip II, the capital was moved to Madrid in 1561.

**Inspiration**: I have always felt that Mendoza had a tough and turbulent life. From the scene in Episode 34, I thought that Mendoza's parents had died young and under tragic circumstances. Life as an orphan would undoubtedly created the toughened navigator that we see in the series, but I wanted a more complex tale especially after I read about Luis de Mendoza and his actions in Magellan's fleet. As I explained in the last chapter, I wanted a connection between them and decided to make it familial. I then made Luis harsh and abusive to prevent any kind thoughts about him in Mendoza and to further create the aloof coldness that is sometimes exhibited by him.


	4. Entry 3

**Port of San Julian. Winter Quarters. May 20, 1520.**

We have seen the first signs that there are people living in this wilderness. Footprints of immense size have been found, but we as yet have not seen the people themselves. The appearance of theses prints has led Magellan to call this land Patagonia.(1)

Exploring new lands is nothing new to me but I have learned that what you find will always surprise you.

**Toledo 1516.**

I traveled to Arroyo before setting out on my real journey. I had not seen my friend Julian since my uncle took Maria and me to Granada. I went to his home, but found no one. Eventually, I made my way to the hacienda of Don Felipe, where Julian's mother still worked.

"No, Julian isn't here any more," she told me. "Don Felipe had my son accompany him to the New World."

"The New World?" I said in disbelief. "But that is impossible. Julian told me himself that he would never leave Arroyo. That he wished to serve the people here."

Julian's mother wiped a tear from her eye. "He had little choice. Don Felipe would not take no for an answer. I pray everyday that Our Lady will keep him safe."(2)

"I'm sure he will be fine," I said hastily, not wanting to cause her more grief. "I will be going there myself someday and perhaps I will see him." I knew this was unlikely given how large the New World was, but if it gave her some peace...

Her eyes shown as she replied, "Yes, you might. When you do, tell him my heart will always be with him and that I am proud of him."

"Of course," I said, taken aback by her sudden conviction. "I will tell him when I see him." She patted my hand, content. I soon left, despite her attempts to get me to stay for supper. I was anxious to be on my way. I couldn't help but laugh at the irony of it. Julian, who had never wished to travel, was on his way to the New World and I was struggling to get to Toledo.

Walking, I left Arroyo far behind me that night. When I could go no farther, I slept along the side of the road.

I was free. And looking forward to what the new day would bring.

I stole food and a ride whenever I could and eventually came to the capitol of Spain, Toledo. The city is built on a promontory bordered on three sides by a gorge in the Tagus River, and the landside is protected by inner and outer walls. Towers, old gates, narrow winding streets, massive houses and Moorish architecture give the city an atmosphere all its own. In the center of the city rises the Cathedral, which was only completed a few years ago. I was afraid I would never find Gomez's residence in this huge city but to my surprise everyone seemed to know of it.

Reluctantly, a servant led me into the house. But I was surprised when Señora Ayala greeted me.

"Oh, I am so pleased to see you, Señor Mendoza," she exclaimed, pushing me into a seat. "My husband told me that you refused to join him. What are you doing here in Toledo?"

"I have reconsidered Señor Gomez's offer, Señora. I wish to become a soldier."

"I am sure he will be glad to hear that but he is not here."

"He isn't?" I said, incredulously.

"No, but he will return in a few days."

"I see," I said stupidly, wondering what I was going to do now. I had no money and was in a strange city.

"You are welcome to wait here for him," Señora Ayala Gomez suggested invitingly.

I shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. Something in her manner made me nervous. But, I had few options, so I replied, "Gracias, Señora, your hospitality is greatly appreciated."

"Good," she said, jumping to her feet and calling for her servants. The one who had shown me in came in with a sour expression on his face.

"Please take Señor Mendoza away," she said.

The servant approached me threateningly, his expression lightening considerably. He grabbed my arm and began to pull me roughly out of the room. I was about to protest to Doña(3) Ayala, when she noticed my predicament.

"Oh no, Juan, I do not want you to throw him out," she laughed. "Take him away and get him cleaned up. He can wear some of Gomez's clothes until I get him some new ones."

The servant and I stood rooted to the spot, surprised by the number and nature of her orders. I noted with some amusement that the serving man's countenance had fallen again and I wondered what his relationship was to the Señora. I also began thinking about what_ I _was to her and worried that I had escaped from one problem only to land in another.

The next few days were a blur. That first day, I was pushed and pulled this way and that and received my first real bath. Before I knew what was happening, I was dressed as a fashionable young nobleman. The next day I was paraded out on the streets of Toledo, led to the tailor and was fitted for a great number clothes, more than I had owned in my whole life before.

I soon began trying to avoid Señora Gomez, finding her company strange and uncomfortable. She was far too flirtatious for a married woman and I had the feeling this was only the beginning.

One day, about a week after my arrival, I was avoiding her in the kitchen. Her cook noticed me and laughed at my predicament. "You are right to hide here, Señor," the woman said. "The Lady would never come in here."

"I'm not hiding, I was just wondering what was for supper tonight," I replied, trying to sound dignified. She nodded, and we held eye contact for a moment...then burst out laughing. "All right, I am hiding, but can you blame me? The wife of the man I need to help me become an officer in the army is trying to seduce me. What else am I to do?"

"There is nothing, Señor," the cook responded, this time more sympathetic, "other than leave Toledo."

"But I can't do that. I have nowhere else to go," I said throwing my hands in the air in exasperation. "At least these things will stop when Gomez returns." The woman only continued to look at me in that sympathetic, pitying way. "It won't stop!" She shook her head. "How can it not? Gomez will surely notice his wife throwing herself at me!"

"He never has before."

"Before! They have only been married for a few months. How can she get away with such things!"

"Love can be blind," was the cook's only reply.

Fortunately, for me, Gomez returned that night. I have rarely been so glad to see anyone. Although Señora Ayala's attention still seemed focused on me (I was beginning to feel a definite kinship between myself and Joseph in the Bible), she was a little less pressing when Gomez was near. Gomez, himself, turned a blind eye to these things or simply didn't see it. I couldn't understand how he could miss it at first, but as time passed I began to figure it out. I believe he didn't want to know. He loved her enough to conceal any fault.

I will never let a woman have such a hold over me.

Gomez and I were to spend a lot of time together in the coming months. I continued to stay in his home when we weren't at the barracks or training. Despite my growing aversion to Ayala, Gomez and I got along very well. In truth, we had a lot in common. Although he was my commanding officer, we talked about many things. I even told him of the "hold" Luis had over me. Both of our parents had died years ago and we had no other family we could turn too. Our families weren't rich, but at least Gomez had an aristocratic ancestry to help him get his position in the King's army. But his advancement to the rank of Lieutenant, without seeing any action to warrant such a rise in rank, bothered him. Which was why, he told me, that he requested to be sent to the New World. He wanted to prove himself.

"I am surprised that you would marry months before you will be reassigned to the New World," I noted. The personal comment didn't seem to bother Gomez.

"I didn't plan on meeting Ayala or everything that has happened since," Gomez smiled, something I didn't see happen often. "Some things are ordained by fate."

"Fate can be strange," I said softly.

Gomez seemed pleased to take me on as his prodigy. I went with him to his division and I was officially made a soldier of His Majesty, King Charles I. Over the coming months, I began learning to ride a horse, to fire a pistol, and military tactics and history. But sword fighting was where I excelled. I had never handled a sword before in my life, but found that I had a natural ability. Even Gomez's superiors were impressed and praised him for finding me. Within the year that I was in Toledo, I was promoted to Sergeant and everyone said I would have a brilliant career in the army.

But that was not to be.

Word came after several months that Lieutenant Gomez's company was being sent to Cuba. I was overjoyed! I was going to the New World at last, and getting away from Lady Ayala. I thought I was finally safe, but sometimes my luck deserts me.

Gomez left two weeks before we were to sail to see to the final preparations. I was to lead the company a week later to Seville were we would sail for Cuba.

I managed to stay very busy that last week and entirely avoided Ayala. That last night before the company was to march to Seville, I was lying in bed, thinking of how my fortunes had changed. Only a year ago, I was practically a slave and now here I was about to lead a company of soldiers. And I was going to the New World. _Perhaps I will see Julian again_, I thought. At that moment, anything seemed possible. The night breeze blew gently through my open window, cooling the room.

I had just dropped off to sleep when I felt something brush against my lips. I started awake. And fell out of bed when I saw Ayala lying next to me.

She laughed. "I can't be that terrifying."

"Señora, please, you shouldn't be here."

She laughed again. "And where should I be? Is this not my home?"

"Yes, it is your home," I replied, "and Gomez's."

Her features twisted in anger, "I care nothing for him."

"He cares for you, deeply," I said, trying to distract her as I inched very slowly along the wall.

"Then he is a bigger fool than I had imagined," she spat. "This marriage is a business arrangement between him and my father. Nothing more. My father now has a daughter with noble connections and Gomez has my money. There cannot be anything else between us." She looked at me and smiled. "But you...I like you. Ever since you saved my life, I felt there is something between us." She moved toward me with the grace and beauty of a cat. A very dangerous one.

"Lady, please," I implored one last time. "Gomez is my commanding officer and I believe him to be a friend. I am a guest in his home and you are his wife! I will not betray his trust!"

She continued her advance. "You are nothing to him but a tool, a means to further his own career. And if you don't see this...then perhaps you are a fool, too."

At that moment I made my move. I rushed past her to the window to make my escape. But as fast as I was, she was quicker. She threw her arms around my neck and, with surprising strength, pulled my lips to hers. The kiss was short. I pushed away form her with such force that I threw her to the ground.

She looked up at me, her beauty becoming twisted, her eyes now burning with hate.

I looked at her with disgust and jumped out of the window, running all the way to the army barracks. All the things I needed were already there. I roused the men in the dark and we marched for Seville before dawn.

* * *

Author's Notes

1) Means 'Big Feet'.

2) For more on Julian's adventures in the New World, read the Scott O'Dell books _The Captive, The Feathered Serpent, _and _The Amethyst Ring._

3) Spanish honorific meaning Lady. Don is the male equivalent.

**Inspiration**: Poor Gomez! I am really evil to the poor man in this chapter. Why did I do this? Well, I wanted Mendoza and him to have known each other for some time. Some of their comments about one another in the series make me think this is not impossible. Why did I create Ayala? For fun. I knew that I would have to make Mendoza and Gomez have a big falling out before the beginning of the series and originally planned something quite different...and much more boring. I liked the tension that this created even if it seemed to be a bit soap opera-ish to me. Still, I have received more positive comments about this section of the story than any other, so I guess I did something right. :D


	5. Entry 4

Wow! Another review. I am so happy. Many thanks to Aiko Yanaifor taking the time to review. It means a lot to me.

* * *

**Port of San Julian. Winter Quarters. June 4, 1520.**

We have seen the natives themselves at last. We were aboard our ships when a man appeared on the beach. The Captain ordered some of our people to go ashore in a boat and try to establish friendly relations with him. The man allowed himself to be brought to the small island where Magellan had landed. The native seemed greatly surprised to see us and pointed to the sky. We took this to mean that he believed we had descended from Heaven.

This man was quite tall and of handsome appearance. His face was broad and painted red, except for a rim of yellow round his eyes and two spots, shaped like hearts, on his cheeks. He was dressed warmly in the skins of some local animal, which we were later shown. This animal(1) has the head and ears of a mule, the body of a camel, the legs of a stag, and the tail of a horse. Such strange creatures live in this land! The man also wore a sort of shoe that was wrapped in fur, which was used as protection from the cold. These shoes created the large footprints we had believed belonged to a race of giants. He also carried a short bow strung with the intestines of that same animal. In his other hand, he held arrows made of short reeds, with feathers at one end (similar to ours) and at the other, instead of iron, a piece of white-and-black flint.

The Captain gave him food and drink, along with many trinkets. Little bells, a small looking glass, a comb, and some glass beads were among the gifts. After this, he was set back on shore, accompanied by four well-armed men.

More of his people appeared when they saw him return. They were brought aboard and invited to stay in the vicinity of our ships. They have divided themselves into two parties, one on each side of the port, and they provide us with diversions by singing and dancing.

When I traveled to the Cuba with Gomez and his troops, I met for the first time people from this New World. I didn't know one of them would change my life.

**Cuba 1517-1518.**

I expected everyday in Seville to receive some word of Ayala that would prove damaging to me, but to my surprise there was nothing. I was relieved yet confused. She didn't seem to be one who would not take revenge.

These thoughts however were soon replaced when we were on the ocean. I hadn't been on a ship since before death of my father. I was surprised how at home I felt on the waves, even after all that time.

After a short passage, we arrived at our destination, Baracoa. Gomez reported to Governor Diego Velásquez from whom we learned that our mission in Cuba had changed. Our purpose originally was to bolster defenses and make the Spanish settlements more secure. But the natives Indians of the islands were staging a revolt and we were called to active duty.

The Governor ordered Gomez to lead a campaign against the rebels and crush them. I knew Gomez was a good officer, but also was only too aware that he had never lead troops into battle before. The stress on him was very great and he spent the next week desperately trying to come up with a plan. When he did it was daring, unconventional and could either bring a brilliant victory or a disastrous defeat. In my mind, it depended as much on luck as it did on skill. Not one to remain silent, I voiced my concerns to Gomez.

"Señor, this plan is dangerous. We are as likely to harm friends as foes. The natives know the terrain better than any in the army, especially those that have only been here for a week."

"I believe these savages will be easily defeated," Gomez countered, arrogantly. "They will not expect an attack of this nature and will have no way to defend against it. We will triumph, there is no doubt."

I could only hope, for our sakes, that he was right.

The Governor approved of the plan and final preparations were completed. I don't believe that I am a coward, but I admit I was afraid. I don't see how any sane man couldn't be in that situation. I was about to engage in battle against an unknown foe under the command of an untried officer whose plan was reckless and yet bold enough to succeed. As I watched the sun set that night I couldn't help but wonder if it would be the last one I ever saw.

-----

Gomez planned a night attack on a village which we knew from the information of a spy was harboring the rebels. We approached with all possible caution and took our positions, waiting for Gomez's signal. He fired a single pistol shot in the air and we charged the native settlement.

From the beginning, things didn't go as planned. Although we did indeed have the element of surprise, the rebels, like anyone who is cornered with no chance of escape, fought like demons. Gomez was knocked from his horse and we ended up fighting back to back. Fires set by our own men to burn the village huts were helping the rebels as much as us. And it also enraged them. We were now on the defensive, trying to keep from being overrun. Gomez somehow managed to reform our lines and lead another charge.

We forced the natives back, but in the process I was separated from the rest of our soldiers. Casting about for my comrades, I was confronted by a large man. My drawn sword was knocked from my hand before I knew he was there. We fought each other hand to hand and I soon found that I wasn't going to win. The rebel was stronger than I and was a far more skilled physical warrior than I. He managed to knock me to the ground and his hands closed around my throat. Starved for air, I was just beginning to think Toledo and Ayala would have been a better choice for me, when I felt the iron grip around my neck loosen. The man I had been battling fell dead beside me. I looked up, expecting to see one of my companions, but was astounded when I beheld in the light of the blazing fires the face of an Indian, dressed in Spanish clothing, standing over me with a drawn and bloody knife. He offered me his hand and I was pulled to my feet.

"Hurry, we don't have much time," he said in near perfect Spanish.

I don't know why I followed him. Maybe I was just curious, but after I retrieved my fallen sword, I found myself crashing through the brush after him.

"Do you mind telling me where we are going? The battle is back the other way," I said after a few moments.

"Your friends have already subdued the rebels, but victory will still escape if you don't be silent," he answered in a harsh whisper.

I was taken aback by the way he answered me. His excellent Spanish was laced with a disrespectful tone. Strange if he was what I took him to be, a slave. I must admit that I became even more curious. Who was this man? And why would victory still escape if Gomez had forced the rebels to surrender?

We had circled around the village and were in an area almost untouched by the violence. The Indian slowed his pace and took great stealth in his approach. I felt it was prudent to do likewise and we crept silently to where I could hear hushed voices. Although I didn't understand the language, I could tell they were arguing. In the shadows I could see the forms of two crouching figures. They seemed to reach a sort of agreement as we silently moved closer. They had just stood up when my companion rushed foreword and felled one of them with a single blow. I put my sword to the others throat and he surrendered without any further struggle.

"Who are these men and why was it so vital that we capture them?" I asked.

"This," my strange savior replied, pointing to the man whom I held at bay with my sword, "is the leader of this rebellion."

I was stunned. Victory would have indeed been lost if he had escaped.

A short distance away, I heard the sounds of Gomez's soldiers coming in our direction.

"Well done, Mendoza," I heard the lieutenant's voice come to me out of the darkness. He and several soldier surrounded us.

"It wasn't all my doing, sir," I said turning to acknowledge my companion, but found he had disappeared into the darkness.

-----

We marched the remaining rebels and villagers back to Baracoa and Gomez reported to the Governor as soon as we entered the fort. He took all the credit for the victory and was promoted to the rank of captain on the spot. I was surprised when he didn't mention that I had been responsible, in part, for the capture of the leader of the rebellion. I couldn't help but hear Ayala's words, "You are nothing to him but a tool, a means to further his own career. And if you don't see this...then perhaps you are a fool, too."

The following night, the rebels were burned to death. Everyone was required to witness it and I was no exception. Just before lighting the fire, a priest offered the leader of the rebellion spiritual comfort, showing him the cross and asking him to accept Jesus and go to heaven. "Are there people like you in heaven?" the leader asked.

"There are many like me in heaven," answered the priest.

The leader then said, "I want nothing to do with a God that would allow such cruelty to be unleashed in his name."(2)

In the months that followed, I could not help but to begin to understand what he meant as I saw how the people of the island had been enslaved and forced to work until they died. I spent too many years little better than a slave myself not to sympathize with their plight.

-----

That same night, Gomez sent for me and when I found him he was with the Indian who had saved my life.

"This slave, José, has brought a message from a friend of mine, Quentín Gamboa who is commander of the garrison at Santiago de Cuba. Gamboa is asking the Governor for more soldiers and, as the immediate threat has been dispatched here, the Governor has agreed to send us to him. Tell the men to be prepared. We march in a week."

Dismissed, I waited until the slave, to whom I owed my life, was also allowed to leave as well and confronted him. "Why did you help me? Help us? You betrayed your own people."

He stared at me in silence. I was about to repeat myself when he replied, "They are not my people. I did what I thought was best for them," he said flatly. "They had no chance of defeating you Spaniards. And if they convince other villages to join them, it would make it legal, according to your laws, for them to be taken as slaves. I hoped to save them. By stopping their leader, maybe I could save the people." His voice shook with emotion as he said this.

"What do you mean they aren't your people?"

"I was taken as a slave a few months ago when the Governor was searching the mainland, west of here."

"How is it that you know Spanish, if you have only been a slave for a few months?"

"Almost two years ago," José said, "a shipwrecked Spaniard appeared in my village and it was from him that I learned your language. I was traveling to another city when the Governor's men found me. I made the foolish mistake of speaking to them and your captain's friend, Gamboa, took me as his slave. I was brought to this island and baptized with the name José. I haven't seen my home since. And now your people plan to invade my country."

In the coming months, I learned a lot from the slave known as José. In spite of, or perhaps because of our differences, we started to become friends. I found his perspective on life to be different than any I had ever known.

-----

Just as Gomez ordered, we marched for Santiago de Cuba in a week and José led the way.

Gamboa met us with the Alcalde of the settlement. Gamboa said the Alcalde's name was Hernán Cortés. It was this man who was planning to sail to the mainland where, rumors had it, a great civilization flourished.

Our life and duties in Santiago de Cuba were ordinary and routine. Months passed with nothing to cause excitement as there were no more rebellions or problems of any kind. We were masters of the island.

Sometimes, I would join our men or the sailors in the dock tavern to hear the latest rumors and stories. Because of this I soon became aware that Cortés was not the only one interested in the land to the west. Gamboa had also sought the Governor's approval to lead an expedition, but Cortés was the favorite. Ever since the two men had not gotten along.

One of the men's favorite tales was about El Dorado and the City of Gold. I have heard it often since then and it has never ceased to fascinate me.

The first night I heard it was after a long, hot day when even Gomez was willing to take a drink in the tavern. An old sailor began the tale and, almost at once, all other conversations were hushed. "The City of Gold exists some where on the land to the west. The houses are gold, the roads are gold. Even the poor of the city have gold. It is so common that the wealthy won't use it."

"If they don't want it, I will gladly take it off their hands!" someone from the crowd called.

Everyone laughed and went back to their own talk. Everyone, that is, except Gomez. He stared into space, his mind clearly still thinking of the marvelous fabled city.

I couldn't help but ask, "Dreaming of the Golden City, Gomez?"

Startled out of his reverie, he laughed. "Why would I need the Cities of Gold? I have a beautiful wife who is as rich as Midas. What more do I need?"

I sobered at the thought of Ayala. "What more indeed."

-----

Time passed. To alleviate the boredom, Gomez and I would engage in a test of our skills with a sword. I had the natural talent, but he was far more experienced and we each won our fair share of battles.

Nearly a month after the discussion of the Cities of Gold, Gomez was late for our match. This was so unlike him that I went searching for him. I learned from the garrison that he was in his room and had been there since the previous evening. Afraid that some accident might have befallen him, I immediately went to his quarters and knocked loudly upon door.

No answer.

I knocked again and was about to force my way into the room when I hear him dully say, "Enter."

He was standing next to the room's small window, holding a piece of crumpled paper in his hand.

"Captain," I said, concerned, "is something wrong? The men say you haven't left your room since yesterday." He didn't turn to face me or acknowledge me in any way. "Captain, what is it?"

"She is dead, Mendoza," he stated simply.

I didn't understand. I was about to ask whom he was speaking of...when it struck me. Ayala. Only Ayala could have put him in such a state. "Gomez, not..."

"Yes," he said bitterly. He tossed the paper towards me. "Read it for yourself."

I picked up the fallen page. It was a letter from Ayala's father, Alfonso Pedroza. It stated briefly, and coldly, that Ayala had been murdered. Murdered in the arms of her lover by the servant who had always been so possessive of her. Even I, knowing her character, was shocked. The paper further stated that because his daughter had died without an heir, the marriage agreement had not been fulfilled and the fortune Gomez had acquired through her was no longer his.

"I have lost my wife, my fortune and my reputation," Gomez said. I believe he was speaking to himself and not to me. "Everything is gone. Everything."

"Gomez, I..." I didn't know what to say even if he had let me finish.

"Say nothing," he turned on me. And I saw it in his eyes. Rage, sorrow, and suspicion.

I knew what he was thinking and in that moment words failed me. I could say nothing in my defense. I was innocent, but I could see he already thought me to be guilty. And nothing I could say would change that. I left without uttering a sound, leaving the Captain alone with his grief.

-----

Another month passed and nothing more was said yet Gomez and I were no longer friends. Only commanding officer and soldier. I no longer had any power and was humiliated by having to serve ordinary guard duty, something I had never had to do before.

It was just around that time that a crime was discovered by Cortés's accountants. Some person or persons had been stealing from the King's storehouse and the Alcalde was determined to discover whom. He kept this information to himself and ordered his clerks to remain silent, in hopes he would catch the thief. Any theft would be his responsibility to account for to both the Governor and the King. Such a loss could even jeopardize his expedition and Cortés wouldn't allow that. He quietly ordered more soldiers to guard the treasure house and, unbeknownst to anyone, set his trap.

And, as fate would have it, I was there when the trap was sprung.

-----

I was stationed as a guard of the King's storehouse on a night that was dark, the moon being hidden behind thick yet fast moving clouds. A sudden commotion from the other side of the building drew my attention and I ran towards the noise. By the faint light, I could see one of my fellow guards struggling with a shadowy assailant. Before I could hardly react, the thief, as I believed him to be, had broken free and was escaping into the jungle. I raised my rifle and was about to fire a fatal shot when the moon broke through the clouds. I nearly dropped my weapon when I thought I recognized the thief. I adjusted my aim and fired just as the figure disappeared.

Other guards finally arrived, too late of course, but I gave orders for a search and sent for the treasurer. The identity of the assailant was going to cause an uproar and I had a bad feeling about the whole situation. I left the scene by myself although I knew Gomez would want to hear my report. I knew where I could find the thief and wanted, for my own purposes, to confront him first.

I made my way to the Gamboa hacienda's slave quarters. I carefully pushed the door open. A figure was crouched in a corner, but in the dim light coming in I couldn't see who it was. I moved carefully and silently, at least silently to me, but before I had taken three steps the figure whirled and I saw the moonlight flash across the blade of a knife.

The shadowy form lunged toward me, the knife aimed at my heart. I dodged to the side and grasped my attacker's arm, trying to dislodge his weapon. But his desperation made him stronger than I and the blade was quickly pointed at me again. I was losing this struggle and in desperation called out, "José, stop! It's Mendoza!"

The force on the blade was suddenly gone and I fell foreword onto my knees.

"Mendoza?" a voice questioned from the dark. "Me disculpo, I didn't know it was you."

I looked at his bleeding arm and frightened face. "It was you, wasn't it?"

"What are you talking about?" he said warily, pulling away.

I pointed to his injury and asked incredulously, "I suppose that is just a mosquito bite?"

He laughed mirthlessly and gave up his deception, "A mosquito you fired."

"You're lucky I recognized you or even now you would be lying dead back at the treasury."

He winced. "Your aim is legendary," he replied.

"What were you doing?" I demanded angrily. "If you are caught, they will hang you."

"I had no choice," he said darkly.

"What do you mean, you had no choice?" I asked warily.

"Just what I said. Please don't ask me anymore." His desperation was visible on his face as he queried, "Are you going to take me back?"

"If I did that, I might as well shoot you here." I looked him in the eye. "I owe you my life. Is that anyway to repay my debt?" I asked with a harsh laugh. "But leave now and don't come back," I added seriously.

He looked at me, surprised and grateful. "Thank you," he said finally.

"No time for that. Just go."

José started to move past me. Moving quickly, I kicked his legs out from under him and he fell onto his back, the wind knocked out of him. Before he could move or react, I had my rifle pointed at his head. He looked up at me and I could see my betrayal in his eyes.

The door burst open behind me and the prone José. "Well done, Mendoza," a familiar voice said. "I see you have caught our thief."

* * *

**Author's Notes**

1) This creature is a guanaco, a kind of llama.

2) This scene that I have described here did happen, but not when or under the circumstances that I have created. It actually occurred during Velásquez's conquest of Cuba. A man named Hatuey, a Taíno chief, led the fight against the Spanish invaders. Hatuey's strategy against the Spaniards was to attack, guerilla fashion, and then disperse into the hills, where the Indians would regroup for the next attack. For about three months Hatuey's tactics kept the Spaniards on the defensive, afraid to leave their fort at Baracoa. But from the information given by a traitor, Velásquez was able to surround and capture Hatuey. On February 2, 1512 he was burned at the stake. The words spoken by my rebel leader were actually his.

**History**: It was very interesting and yet troubling to read about the early conquest period of the Caribbean islands, Cuba and Hispaniola. I originally thought I would try to send Mendoza to an area that would bring him in contact with Bartolome de las Casas, the famous early defender of native peoples rights. But it made things too clunky and ultimately I settled for Cuba because I wanted to create a prior knowledge of Hernán Cortés, particularly given the conquistador's importance in the sequel to this story. Unlike Cortés, Gamboa is a purely fictional character I made up to suit my plot.


	6. Entry 5

**Port of San Julian. Winter Quarters. June 15, 1520.**

It has been quiet these last few days. The Indians have not appeared again and there is little to do. I keep busy with my training and regular duties, but the time is dragging.

The Captain-General is worried for the _Santiago_ and her crew. Captain Serrano was ordered to report back after a month, but it has been a month and a half since she sailed and we have had no word from her.

But Magellan won't allow us to be idle. He says that if we are to survive the harsh winter, we must keep resupplying our ships with water, food and wood. All of the crew work to accomplish this, even those that mutinied against the Captain. They still wear the chains imposed for their crimes.

I wonder if they know it was I who betrayed them and warned Magellan? Many of them won't have anything to do with me and I have seen Del Cano and a few others giving me dark looks. Is it jealousy because of my new position as Magellan's apprentice or something else? Only Magellan and Enrique know the whole truth, but I believe the rest of the crew must know something of it.

Is betrayal ever necessary to preserve the greater good?

**Cuba 1519.**

The door burst open behind me and the prone José. "Well done, Mendoza," a familiar voice said. "I see that you have caught our thief."

I turned slightly, taking my aim and eye away from José, who was stilling staring at me in shock and disbelief. "Captain Gomez," I replied, standing at attention. He stood just outside the door surrounded by soldiers.

"Get him out," Gomez ordered the one next to him. The chosen soldier nodded to one of his companions and the two of them came inside. They roughly pulled José to his feet. "Take him to the prison. The Alcalde(1) can decide what to do with him tomorrow." The guards took the unresisting slave away.

I walked to where Gomez stood and waited until the last guard had departed before I spoke. "Señor, I believe there is something more going on here."

"What do you mean, Mendoza?" he echoed my earlier question to José.

"He said something earlier that leads me to believe he may have been forced to do this."

"From your position, I didn't realize you had time for conversation. A man is likely to say anything when a gun is pointed at his head. All these Indians are thieves and liars anyway. You shouldn't take anything they say too seriously."

Gomez was looking at me suspiciously and he definitely wouldn't like what I was thinking. I decided to stick with my half true story. "Señor, I would like permission to question the prisoner further," I requested.

"I don't believe that is a good idea, Mendoza," Gomez replied, shaking his head. "He will only tell you more lies."

"But Señor, I believe this only the tip of something bigger."

"Enough Mendoza," Gomez said, his voice quiet, but angry. "You are obviously not thinking properly. You are relieved of your duties and confined to quarters until this matter is resolved. Is that understood?"

"Perfectly, Señor Gomez," I replied, not believing it myself. I had to find out what was going on before they executed José. I owed him that much.

-----

Gomez went so far as to post a guard at my room to make certain that I stayed where I was. I waited until the night was almost over to make my move. My guard's breathing had become steady and regular and I believed he was asleep. I had changed out of my armor into dark clothes and I was amazed how much better I felt being out of uniform.

I carefully pulled the door open and crept out. The guard didn't even stir. I smiled. At any other time, I would have reprimanded him and had him punished. Now I thanked him silently and continued out into the night. I quickly made my way to the prison, easily avoiding the guards.

José was being held captive in the darkest corner of the building. Even in the pale moonlight, I could see he had been beaten. My conscience hurt me and I couldn't help but wondered if I had done the right thing.

I managed to find some water and went back to José. He did not move when I called to him. It was only when I flicked the water into his face that he stirred and opened his eyes. He looked up into my eyes and his mouth opened in surprise. I quickly put out my hand to keep him from calling out, but he pulled away from me.

"I suppose it is only justice," José said with bitterness. "The betrayer becomes the betrayed. I betrayed the people of this island and now I have been betrayed by you. Why Mendoza?" he asked quietly, his eyes cold and angry. "You said you wouldn't stop me, that you were in debt to me for saving your life. Why did you turn around and betray me?"

"I had no choice, José," I replied calmly. "I heard Gomez's soldiers outside. If I had not done what I did, we both would have been imprisoned."

"This way only I am confined," he said with a bitter laugh. "You will have to pardon me if I don't seem very enthusiastic about this arrangement."

"Let me finish," I interrupted. "If we both had been taken, there would be no chance. As things stand, I can work on your behalf. But, only if you will trust me. I need to know why you did this. I know that you are not a thief and yet here you are, in prison for that crime. I can think of only one explanation." I paused. "Someone forced or coerced you into doing this. The question is, who?"

"I can't tell you that," José replied and I saw fear in his eyes.

"Then I was right. You didn't do this on your own." Thinking for a moment, I continued, "All things considered, there can only be one person who could force you to do this. Gamboa, your master." José stared back at me, but didn't speak. "I am right," I said to myself. "But, why would he do this? He is wealthy already and wouldn't risk losing everything unless the potential rewards were enormous." Then it came to me. I gazed steadily back at José and spoke, "Gamboa is trying to sabotage Cortés's expedition and, at the same time, furthering his own cause. If Gamboa is appointed expedition commander, he will be in a position to reap all the benefits if it succeeds. But if he is only a follower of Cortés, he receives little of the gold and glory. But why did you help him, José. I know how much you hate him."

"If he became the expedition's leader, he would be going to the mainland," José replied, "and taking me with him. I would be going home and if the expedition was successful, he said he would release me. Unlikely, I know, but any risk is worth that."

"Gomez must also know something of this. That is why he relieved me of duty." I looked at José's bound wrists. I took a knife from my boot and cut him free.

"What are you doing?" he exclaimed.

"Setting you free, what does it look like?"

"But why?"

"Because Gamboa isn't going to let you live long enough to talk. They will make sure you are dead before anyone becomes suspicious. I'm a little surprised you're even still alive now."

José massaged his raw wrists. "But what will you do? Gamboa and Gomez will immediately suspect you. Then it will be you in prison."

I laughed slightly. "I'm going to speak to the Alcalde."

"You're insane! He won't believe you!"

"Perhaps, perhaps not. But it does provide a convenient alibi for my whereabouts." Growing serious, I told him, "You had better leave this region entirely."

He nodded.

"Move quickly. Good luck, José."

"And to you, Mendoza."

We managed to sneak out of the prison without being detected and went our separate ways. The sun was just beginning to light the eastern sky. I marveled at our luck to be able to move so freely without raising the alarm.

I finally reached the Alcalde's residence, which was the largest hacienda in the settlement. It seemed, by the light in the window, that Cortés was already awake. Perhaps someone had already informed him of the night's excitement or maybe the plans for his expedition had made him rise early. The house guard I knew and, fortunately, was lesser in rank than myself.

"I have urgent news for the Alcalde. Stand aside," I ordered.

He looked me over, obviously disapproving of my attire, but he did not protest. I was lead to Cortés's study by a young slave girl who knocked on the door and calmly waited for a reply. I was not so patient for this was taking to long. At any moment, Gomez might arrive to make his report. I didn't know how much longer my luck would hold out, but finally a voice from the inside said, "Enter."

The girl went in first to announce me. "Sergeant Mendoza to see you, Your Excellency." Cortés had only begun to reply when I pushed her aside and entered.

"Buenos dias...Mendoza, wasn't it?"

"Yes, Your Excellency." I stood at attention, painfully aware that I wasn't in uniform.

His eyes took in my attire and calmly said, "Dressing informally these days, Señor?"

"Your Excellency, I can explain..."

But Cortés raised his hand, silencing any explanations I could have come up with. "I already know, Mendoza. Captain Gomez was here earlier."

I froze. I was lost.

"Disobeying an order from your Captain is a serious offence," he said, his eyes burning holes into me. Then his attitude changed entirely. "But it does save me the trouble of sending for you to hear your report. And, in doing so, alerting Gamboa to my suspicions."

I looked at him surprised. "I didn't know you suspected him, Excellency."

"I am not a fool, Mendoza," Cortés replied coolly. "I have known for sometime that Gamboa was attempting to undermine my position as leader of this expedition."

"My apologies, Alcalde. I was not aware of this."

"You and everyone else weren't suppose to be 'aware of this'," he mocked, walking to a window. "I couldn't make those accusations without any proof. That Indian called José, he may have been able to implicate Gamboa, but the word of a slave thief will not be accepted by the Governor. So we have to find proof of another kind." He turned to look at me and I didn't like his expression. "I need to conclusively link Gamboa and the thief together. And to do that, I need to know where the stolen items are. I suspect Gamboa's hacienda, but I need their exact location. You will get this information for me."

"Alcalde, this is very difficult. Gomez believes that I am still in my quarters and Gamboa has probably learned of my suspicions by now. If I am discovered..."

"I would suggest, Señor," Cortés interrupted, "that you try to avoid such an outcome. I, of course, will not be able to help you if you are caught disobeying an order and breaking into your Commander's residence." He smiled unpleasantly. "But, I will reward you handsomely if you succeed. You could name your reward." Sitting down, he rested his arms on the desk and pressed his fingertips together, still smiling. "I can arrange for Gamboa to be kept busy while you conduct your search and the orders will shortly be issued. I suggest you get to it."

Knowing it was useless to argue, I saluted automatically and left. I carefully made my way out of the Alcalde's hacienda and through the jungle that surrounded it, thinking of my predicament. This was all too much! How could I ever accomplish the task Cortés had given me? I was beginning to think soldiery was not my destiny. Even Gomez, before our falling out, had admitted that I had the potential to do well and rise in rank. But first, I had to survive the orders of my superiors and, right at that moment, I didn't think I would ever make lieutenant.

I arrived at Gamboa's hacienda and, like Cortés had promised, it did appear to be empty. I was able to get inside the house and search it thoroughly. There was no trace of the stolen items. I was beginning to believe the Alcalde was wrong when I stumbled across Gamboa's secret.

I had searched the house from top to bottom and ended up in the commander's private quarters. I was pacing the floor trying to figure out where he could be keeping the stolen items. In the slave quarters? The jungle? But in these places it might be found by chance and Gamboa was too greedy to hide it too far away from himself. So where was it? I was beginning to get desperate when I noticed something unusual. The wooden floor I was wearing down sounded strange. A small area of it made a different, hollow thud when I stepped on it. Falling to the ground, I searched carefully and soon found a small knothole. I pulled up the floorboard with my finger and something in the dark of the hole glinted gold in the morning light. The stolen treasure was hidden right next to the commander's bed.

I smiled to myself as I looked it over, but stopped suddenly as I noticed a problem. I knew a rough list of the items that had been taken and certain things were missing. Perhaps Gamboa had some other place to hide the stolen treasure, but I didn't have time to search for them. This was taking too long and Gamboa could return at any time.

I carefully replaced the boards and standing up made sure everything looked as it had before I found the hidden compartment. I left the commander's hacienda behind and was just beginning to praise my own luck and skills, when I heard movement in the greenery somewhere behind me. I paused, not making a sound yet heard nothing more. _It was just some animal_, I thought logically. But my instincts told me otherwise. I moved off, faster than before. I could hear the noise again, not as far away as before. There was no doubt now that something was after me and I didn't have the time or the weapons to deal with whoever was back there. I had to get back to Cortés right away. Looking back on the event now, I know it was a mistake, but that is the benefit of hindsight. I moved faster and faster through the jungle, sacrificing silence for speed.

I neared the Alcalde's property. I could no longer hear anything behind me, but was still anxious to report my find. I slowed to a walk and a sense of relief washed over me.

I didn't hear the figure that moved silently towards me or see his shadow. I felt nothing until something hard connected with the back of my head. I fell without a sound. But before the darkness took me, I saw a face before my eyes.

Gomez.

-----

I awoke sometime latter, with the knowledge that I was being carried. I opened my eyes only to quickly squeeze them shut again. My head throbbed from Gomez's blow and the pale light that was coming through the trees made it worse. I lapsed back into darkness, but was awakened again when the persons carrying me tossed my body unceremoniously to the ground. A groan escaped my lips and I again tried to open my eyes.

"It seems our guest is awake," a voice said. I knew it only to well.

"Gamboa!" I spat, or at least tried too. My head ached and I wasn't capable of much venom. I managed to keep my eyes open and took in my surroundings. Gamboa, Gomez and two soldiers, the ones who had been carrying me, stood in a semicircle above me.

"Sí, Señor Mendoza. Gamboa," he looked at me with contempt. "You have caused me much trouble. And now you will pay for it."

"You won't get away with killing me. Cortés knows everything and will have you hanged."

Commander Gamboa smirked, "I'm afraid not, my young friend. We were merely doing our duty in stopping a thief."

I looked at him incredulously. "You must be joking. No one will believe that."

"On the contrary, they already do. You see, Mendoza, my friend Gomez was quite surprised by your defense of a worthless, thieving slave and reported everything to myself and Cortés. Our glorious Alcalde then ordered an inventory of the treasure to determine just what had been taken. But I believed it was our duty to first check on his prisoner and the confined soldier. To our surprise, we found that both had escaped. This confirmed our worst fears and I ordered your quarters to be searched. Do you know what we found?" Gamboa asked with mock politeness.

I felt sick and answered, "I would say you found the treasure missing from your hidden room, which was planted there by the supposedly incompetent, sleeping guard."

Gamboa's smile broadened with my words. "Of course! Gomez, being a good soldier, reported all of this to the Alcalde, who had no choice but to order your arrest. And see how fortunate we are? We have managed to find the traitor. But unfortunately he, _you_, will be killed while trying to escape."

"Very clever," I said. Gamboa actually bowed. "I have one question though. Have I been set up from the beginning or did you do all of this only after I became suspicious." I looked to Gomez for the answer.

He had been standing a little apart from the rest, starring daggers at me. My question stirred him to life. "Only after. Had you not done what you did, you might have joined us."

"To what are you referring? José...or Ayala."

He strode foreword and struck me. My head snapped back and the throbbing, which had started to fade, came back with a vengeance. _That might have been a mistake_, I thought as Gomez drew his pistol and aimed it at my head.

"Don't you dare speak to me of that, bastardo!" The muzzle of his pistol trembled as he continued, "How long would you have lived if you had stayed in Granada with your uncle. Perhaps until your grandfather's death or sooner depending on how much of a nuisance you were. Even if you had escaped him, you would have been living on the streets in squalor. I took you in! Gave you the chance to make something better of yourself, trusted you with my home, and my wife! And how do you repay me? With betrayal!"

I looked him in the eye. "I did not have an affair with your wife, Gomez. You used me from the beginning," I replied with cold anger, not caring at that moment whether he shot me or not. "You took credit for what I had done and you say I betrayed you! You have changed since Ayala's death. I don't know you anymore."

Gomez tightened his grip on the trigger and I was certain I was about to die. With dark amusement I thought, _At least my head should stop throbbing if it is blown off._ But the bullet never came. Gomez, though he was shaking, seemed to regain control and backed away. "Do what ever you want with him."

Gamboa, although he looked at Gomez strangely, shrugged. "As you wish." He turned to the soldiers who had been standing quietly through all of this and said, "Get on with it."

No response. They both stared strait ahead, seeing nothing.

"Did you hear what I said?" Gamboa asked, angry at the delay.

The two soldiers fell foreword stone dead, a dagger in each of their backs.

Gamboa, Gomez and I all stared in shock as a figure, cloaked in shadow, emerged from the jungle. José stood calmly holding my pistol, aiming it at Gamboa and Gomez.

"I would suggest that you drop your weapon, Gomez, unless you want to die." Gomez obeyed.

Gamboa looked sick. "Where did you come from?" he managed.

"You thought I was long gone by now. But I had to stay," he said venomously, "to see that justice was done."

"José, don't do this," I said, getting slowly to my feet. Gamboa deserved death, but I didn't want to see him die, more for José's sake than his. "The Alcalde knows what he is. Even after planting evidence against me, Cortés will never trust either of them again. They are finished in Cuba."

"Is that what you call justice? They are clever and will find a way back into the Governor's good graces. Gamboa should be stopped now!"

"Is that the only way to be free of him? If you have to kill him in cold blood to be released, you are more his slave than I thought."

For what seemed like an eternity, José struggled with himself yet, eventually, he lowered the pistol.

And it was at that moment that Gamboa struck. He lunged for the weapon Gomez had discarded and before Gomez or I could move to help our respective ally, the commander had leveled his pistol toward José.

But José was even faster and fired his one shot. Commander Gamboa crumpled to the ground, dead.

José, breathing hard, spoke. "Am I free of him? Is this any different than what you said would happen if I killed him?"

"That would have been murder," I said calmly. "This was self-defense. You gave him a chance to live and he refused it. In my mind there is a big difference." I turned to Gomez who had not moved. "Well, my friend, it seems the tables have turned."

"What are you going to do, Mendoza?"

I turned away from him. "I am going back to Cortés and informing him of all that has occurred, except for your involvement. I do owe you that much."

Gomez turned and began walking back to the city. "I never betrayed you Gomez," I called after him. He didn't acknowledge my words. He just walked away.

"How can you trust him not to blame you for all of this?" José asked.

"Gomez is intelligent. With me alive, I can contradict all his accusations, and the Alcalde will believe me. And since I am leaving the army, I won't be within Gomez's reach."

José looked at me in surprise. "You are no longer going to be a soldier?"

"Yes." I laughed slightly. "I've decided to leave our good King's army. I'll live longer this way!" I turned to him. "How is it that you managed to arrive at just the right moment? I thought you had gone."

"After you set me free, I was going to do just that, but my path lead me by your quarters. Gamboa and Gomez were there and I hid nearby in the brush until they had gone. I removed the evidence that they had planted against you and hid it again in Gamboa's hacienda."

I laughed, marveling at his audacity. "You must have just missed me."

He nodded. "From the bedroom window I saw you leave and I tried to catch up to you."

"It was you who was following me?"

"Yes, but you moved too fast and I lost you soon after you entered the jungle. When I caught up, Gomez and the others already had you. I had taken your pistol with me when I left your quarters." I gave him a reproachful look. "If I hadn't, we'd both probably be dead now," he exclaimed in his defense as he gave the weapon back to me. "And the rest you know," he finished.

"Where will you go now?" I asked.

He smiled. "I am going home," he simply said.

"How will you get there?"

"I'll manage it."

"I'm sure you will," I said, holding out my hand. "Buena suerte a usted(2), José."

He took it but said, "I would prefer if you called me by my real name and not the one Gamboa forced on me."

"What is it?" I asked.

"Yaxche."

"Farewell, Yaxche."

"Farewell, Mendoza."

And with that we parted.

-----

I went back to Cortés and made a full report. He was as happy as I had ever seen him. "The only way this could have been better is if I could have seen it for myself. Killed by his own slave," he laughed and I felt a bit ill. "And what of his friend, that Captain Gomez. You are sure he had no part in this?"

"I am sure, Alcalde," I lied.

"Still I can't trust the man and must find something to do with him." He thought for a moment. "I will send him to Governor Padrarias Dávila in Darien.(3) Gomez can serve under his commander."

"Who is that?" I asked curious.

"A nobody named Pizzaro.(4) I'll let him deal with Gomez." The Alcalde turned to look at me. "Now what should I do with you my friend?"

I had been waiting for this. "Alcalde Cortés, I request that you discharge me from the army."

That did surprise him. "Why would you want that? I was going to make you Captain in Gomez's place. You can't want to give that up."

"I do, Your Excellency," I said seriously. "I know now that my destiny lies elsewhere. And you did say I could name my reward."

He stared at me as if I were a lunatic and then shrugged. "As you wish."

-----

A few weeks later, I was a member of the crew of a ship, the _Nuestra Señora de la Luz_. Our destination was Spain or, more specifically, Barcelona.

The night before we left port, I stayed awake for a long time, staring at the stars above me and thinking of what the future might hold.

_Barcelona_, I thought. _Perhaps I will find Maria._ I fell asleep with a smile.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

1) I don't think I mentioned this before, but an alcalde was sort of the mayor of Spanish settlements. Just FYI.

2) Good luck to you.

3) A region of Panama

4) Since writing this I learned that Cortés and Pizarro were actually related and probably knew each other or at least had met. Oh well, I like what I wrote and don't feel like changing it. ;p

**Inspiration**: Why did I have Gomez suspect Mendoza of having an affair with Ayala? Again it was for fun. I originally had a much duller plotline of disobeying orders and stuff, but this was far more dramatic. And I thought it could result in the bitter antagonism that Gomez and Mendoza display for one another through out the series. Like I said before, I always liked the idea of these chars having history as there is too much animosity between them even in episode 2. I mean, how many people do you plot to kill that you have just met? Yeah, yeah it was probably just the writers creating drama and showing how evil Gomez was, but I like for people to have motives for the things they do. The bad guys I find the most interesting are always the ones with a dramatic past.

As always comments, questions, and constructive criticisms are welcomed.


	7. Entry 6

**Port of San Julian. Winter Quarters. June 22, 1520. **

We have had terrible news. We have lost the _Santiago_.

Captain Serrano sailed south, as per the Captain-General's orders, but was to report back after a month. It has now been nearly two months since and we only received word of her fate today in a most unexpected manner. These tidings came by land.

This morning, two figures were seen tottering toward us over the hills that line the port. We warily armed ourselves in case they were hostile natives. But, to our amazement, the naked, starved, exhausted men were two of the _Santiago's_ crew. These men told us that Serrano had gotten as far as a river, which he named the Rio de Santa Cruz. An excellent port with an abundance of fish, Captain Serrano was returning to tell us of his discovery when a squall from the east drove the ship onto the rocks of the shore. It is miraculous that only one life was lost. The other thirty-seven made it safely to land and are waiting at the mouth of the Rio de Santa Cruz in extreme need of assistance. The crew of the ill-fated ship chose the two strongest of the party to make their way to us. These men have suffered greatly and only just managed to keep themselves alive by devouring roots and grass.

Magellan is sending a boat to the rescue, but it will be several days at least before the shipwrecked men are brought back.

This loss is a tremendous blow. The Santiago was the smallest of the ships in the fleet and the most agile. She could sail and reconnoiter where the larger ships would have run aground. Like every other loss in this uncharted region of the world, she was irreplaceable.

The Port of San Julian has brought us nothing but disaster and the bloodstained sand is fraught with doom. Many of the crew cry, "Let us get away!" and the Captain-General's supreme desire is to continue on with the voyage. Everyone's impatience is becoming greater as the days grow longer. Many want to quit the expedition and return to home and yet if we return to Spain now it will be a homecoming with no honor or reward. Magellan will not return having accomplished none of his objectives.

And I agree with him. I have sacrificed too much and too many things have happened me to wish to stop now.

We must and will continue.

**Barcelona, Spain 1519 **

Shortly after sighting the landmass of Europe, I saw the port city of San Lucar where the Gualdalquivir River meets the sea. Somewhere north of me was Seville and the village where I grew up, but that was not my destination. We passed the rock of Gibraltar and sailed on into the Mediterranean.

We arrived in Barcelona in early April 1519 in the morning. The first thing to come into view was the cathedral, rising above all else. Though not as large as Seville's greatest structure, it was nonetheless a wonderful and comforting sight. The ship docked and unloaded its cargo and I went to collect my pay.

The captain finished counting it out and said, "You're a born seaman, Señor and if you ever wish to sail with me again, it would be my pleasure."

I thanked him and departed. Searching the streets, I found the market and bought a new set of clothes. The few I had brought from Cuba were in tatters and my choice of clothes, among other things, had become more refined.

Searching around the docks, I found myself in front of a tavern. I entered and found its keeper.

"What can I get for you, Señor?" he asked.

I stated my order, a favorite wine of Gomez's.

"You have fine tastes, Señor," the tavern keeper said as he placed it before me.

The tavern's business was light, as it was not yet midday, and the barman was curious about me.

"You are not from Barcelona are you, Señor? You sound as if you come from Seville."

"Your ear is as good as your wine. I was born in a small village just outside of that city."

"Have you just come from Seville? Have you any news?"

"I just came back from the New World and haven't been to my home. In fact, I came here in Barcelona looking for someone. Her name is Maria Zuñiga."

The tavern keeper shook his head. "Sorry, I'm afraid I don't know her."

"I didn't really expect you would. She would never visit a tavern. Even one as fine as this," I added, not wanting to offend. "But please tell me, why did you ask if I had any news from Seville? What is happening there?" I asked, curious.

"You have not heard of the Voyage?" He looked at me in surprise. "You have been away for a while, Señor."

"You are right. I have been away from Spain for a long time and have not heard of this 'Voyage'?"

"The King is sending an expedition to try and find a passage through the New Continent and so reach the Spice Islands. Preparations began almost eighteen months ago."

_When I was still in Cuba_, I thought. I tried to ask the tavern keeper more about this, but midday patrons were beginning to fill the room, wanting to escape the sun and cool their throats. Before he hurried off, the man did add, "If you have questions about the Voyage, you will have to ask Signore Pigafetta, an Italian noble who is petitioning the King for permission to join the fleet."

"Where can I find him?" I called after him.

"He will be here. He comes everyday around this time." And with that, the tavern keeper bustled off to attend to his other customers.

A voyage to the New World to find a passage to the great western sea._ Why does this idea excite me so_? I wondered at the time. I had just returned from a long voyage and didn't believe I was ready for another. _Besides_, I reasoned, _I came here to find Maria, not to join an expedition that could very likely get me killed._ _I could have stayed with Cortés for that._

Yet I stayed there in the tavern, looking for an Italian adventurer.

I nearly fell asleep waiting. The wine was excellent, but stronger than I'd had for some time. Two hours later, I had just decided to leave when, with a loud bang, the door of the tavern was thrown open. A man, maybe thirty years old, strode in.

"Success! Tavern keeper, a round of drinks for everyone!" This exclamation was followed by cheers and applause.

"The King granted your request, Signore Pigafetta?" The tavern keeper asked.

"He did indeed," Pigafetta replied cheerfully. He pulled a letter with the royal seal from his coat. "It took much time to get an audience with your King, but my efforts have been rewarded." He moved toward the bar and ordered the same wine that I was drinking.

"My apologies, Signore, but I am afraid my stock is depleted." Pigafetta's expressive face fell, clearly disappointed. I quickly stepped in.

"I'm afraid I am the cause of the shortage, but I would be honored to share a bottle with a man who has the King's recommendation," I offered.

He brightened again. "You are most generous, señor, and your taste excellent. I am pleased to accept. I am Antonio Pigafetta of Venice," he said with his hand extended.

I took his firm grip and introduced myself as, "Mendoza of Seville."

We had barely sat down and poured the wine when he sprang back up. "A toast to His Most Gracious Majesty, King Charles I of Spain. May his reign be long and prosperous."

"Here, here." The already pleased crowd of sailors and locals lifted their provided glasses and cheered.

"You seem to be most pleased, Signore," I noted.

"Please call me Antonio."

I nodded. "Can you tell me of this expedition you are joining? I returned from the New World this morning and have only just heard of it. Who is leading it?"

"A Portuguese seaman named Ferdinand Magellan," he answered, sipping his wine.

"How did a Portuguese come to lead a Spanish fleet?"

Antonio laughed. "You people seem to like having foreigners lead your expeditions. What about Columbus?"

I couldn't argue with that.

"According to what I've heard," Antonio continued, "it was because he was too honest."

-----

Over the next few days, I searched for Maria in the morning and, at midday, I would meet Antonio at the tavern. I even managed to get him to tell me about Magellan by exchanging a few tales of my time in the New World with him. His thirst for knowledge is as insatiable now as it was then.

"Magellan was born in about 1480, but his parents died when he was around ten." I could sympathize with that. "He is of noble birth," Antonio continued, "and when he was twelve, he became a page to Queen Leonor at the Royal Court of Portugal. Such a position usually serves as a way for sons of nobility to get an education. While there, he learned of the explorers such as Vasco da Gama and others. He also learned navigation."

"He eventually went to sea enlisted as a common sailor and served his country with distinction in India. He was at the taking of Melaka and from India, he eventually made his was to Malacca. In a skirmish there, Magellan acquired the command of caravel that he, himself, had taken from the enemy. It was aboard this vessel that he went on a mysterious journey eastward and, on his return to Malacca, he submitted a report that stated that he had discovered some islands. But he did not claim them for Portugal as he believed they were within Spanish territory." Antonio laughed, "His superior was so angry that he sent Magellan home to be punished by their King."

"Magellan was demoted in rank, his pay was cut in half and he was sent by his King to fight the Moors in Morocco as a soldier. The rewards of honesty, yes? There he was wounded and never quite recovered. To this day, he walks with a limp. His enemies accused him of treason by doing business with the Moors and Magellan was sent home again, but this time to be court marshaled. The charges were eventually dropped, but he might have preferred the rigors of a trial. He was a captain without a ship, a soldier without a command, and worst of all, he now had no access to the King."

"He finally found a way to reach his royal master, by approaching him as a commoner. The King of Portugal was allowing the common to approach him with their requests. As I heard it, Magellan appeared kneeling before his King and recited the record of his accomplishment, battles and wounds. He then requested a raise in pay and rank. King Manual refused. Magellan requested the command of a caravel for a voyage to the Spice Islands. Again, the answer was no. Magellan, still on his knees, said, "Then Sire, may I be permitted to seek service under another Lord?" King Manual, in anger, said, "Serve whom you will, cripple! It is a matter of indifference to me!"

"Magellan went to northern Portugal and began planning this voyage. In Oporto, where Magellan had been staying, he finalized his plans and gained the assistance of two very powerful Spaniards, Diego and Duarte Barbosa. Magellan traveled to Spain with the Barbosa brothers helping him every step of the way. They even provided Magellan with a wealthy wife, Diego's daughter, Beatriz, and arranged an appointment with your King Charles. I do not know what happened in that meeting, but apparently your seventeen-year-old king and the thirty-seven year old sea dog took to each other at once. Your King agreed to give Magellan a fleet and men for his voyage. The expedition has been preparing in Seville since that time. I also know that King Charles is pressing Magellan to start the mission."

"And you have received permission to join this voyage?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yes, indeed. And as soon as I can find a ship bound for Seville, I will set out. You should come with me," Antonio said congenially. That particular day he had had a little too much to drink. "Magellan will need experienced Spanish sailors. Especially now."

"Why now? I would have thought he would have selected his entire crew by this late date."

"He did but they were almost all Portuguese, including his captains. Powerful men in the royal court found this unacceptable and complained to the King. Magellan has been forced to change almost his entire crew. A sailor, like you, who has been to the New World and has not only seaman skills, but experience in the army, would make you a valuable addition."

I shook my head. "I have things to do here."

"What could be more important than adventure in new lands?"

"My thanks, mi amigo, but I must stay here."

Antonio left the following week.

-----

I continued my search for Maria, but to no avail. I went to the market everyday, wandering the streets asking for Maria. I soon saw that my quest was next to impossible for Barcelona was a huge city. After a month and a half, I was almost ready to give up. My money was beginning to run low and I was going to have to find work in Barcelona, the thought of which still makes me cringe, or put to sea again._ Perhaps I should leave Barcelona and join Magellan's fleet._ This idea was becoming more and more appealing as the days passed. But how could I have leave without knowing what had happen to Maria?

I wandered back to the tavern around midday one fair day and my path led me past the Cathedral. My mother had been a deeply religious woman, but after her death my father had rarely gone to Seville's great cathedral. Maria tried to keep me from "becoming a heathen" while my father was away, but I was a stubborn boy. Luis had no interest in the Church and Señora Ayala would have found many of the Ten Commandments and other teachings a little uncomfortable. So I, then 19, had rarely ever been in a Cathedral before. I had walked past this holy monument everyday when I was searching and had never given it a second glance. But, today I felt compelled to enter.

The sun streamed through the stained glass windows, bathing the pews and few worshipers in warm, colorful light. All was peaceful and still, the only sounds I could hear were the gentle pleas of prayer. Walking up the aisles, I sat in the front pew and stared up at the altar. I do not know how long I stayed there thinking. It couldn't have been long as I didn't know what answer I was praying for.

I stood up, turned to leave...and nearly ran into a woman standing behind me.

She spoke softly, "When you walked in, I thought I was seeing a vision of your father." She took my hands in hers. "But you are real. Blas! Niño! Oh my boy, you are really here!"

Maria?" She looked different than I remembered her. She seemed younger and more alive than I have seen her since we were taken to Granada. But it was her. She was here. I was home.

-----

Maria lived on the outskirts of the city with her brother's family. They were not wealthy, but lived comfortably. Maria's brother invited me to stay with them and I accepted gratefully. By then my funds were becoming very limited.

As we walked to her brother's home that first day, Maria told me how she had found her family soon after arriving in Barcelona and came to live with them. From them, she learned that my grandfather had indeed died and Luis had collected the inheritance in my name. He had stayed in Barcelona for a long time, spending most of his time, and a lot of money, at the royal court. The thought of him having my fortune and gaining influence at court with it made my skin crawl.

I told her of my adventures and the people I had met; Gomez, Ayala and their troubles, of Cortés's and Gamboa's rivalry. I explained how Yaxche had saved my life and stopped Gamboa. I told her why I decided to leave the army and sailed back to Spain. I also mentioned Antonio Pigafetta and Magellan's voyage.

"I went to the Cathedral as often as I could, praying for you safety. I know now that they were truly needed. That Commander...and Cortés," Maria shuddered. "I am so thankful you are here and that you are safe."

And yet every day that I stayed with Maria and her family, I was troubled. I was going to have to find a way to support myself and I couldn't bring myself to become a common laborer. I knew no one with the power to give me a position of importance and had few options. That left me with going to sea, but then I would have to abandon Maria again. She was so happy having me there, where she didn't have to worry about me. The thought of leaving her again made my heart ache.

I thought of my father then sailing away from everyone he cared for. How could he stand leaving people he loved for such long periods of time? Is it my destiny to also leave everyone and everything I care about?

-----

One night I couldn't sleep, as was becoming my habit. Instead of tossing all night, I decided to go for a walk. I didn't know where I was going and that seemed to be the story of my life to that point. No direction, no course, and nothing to guide me.

I found myself at the door of the tavern. I thought of Antonio and Magellan and I wondered if they were already on their way to the new continent. The tavern's door had shut far earlier in the evening and I moved on. My wandering then led me to the docks of Barcelona and I found the Nuestra Señora de la Luz still berthed there. The night watch called to me as I moved past and I asked him when they sailed. He replied that they sailed tomorrow for Seville. The Fates had placed a choice before me. I could stay or I could leave with the ship in the morning and not have to explain or say goodbye. I looked up the road to the Cathedral, shining in the full moon light. If there was ever a time that I needed guidance it was then.

"Blas," a voice said softly behind me.

"Maria!"

"You want to go to sea again, but can't bring yourself to tell me." I looked at her, shocked that she knew so much. She laughed, a little sadness in her voice. "I have been your "mother" for too long not to know what is in your heart, mi niño. But you are not a child anymore." She laughed softly again. "When you left you weren't even my height, but now my head barely reaches your shoulder." She looked deep into my eyes and said seriously, "You must go to Seville again, find your friend Antonio and join this Magellan." Tears ran down her cheeks as she spoke, making me want to stay even more. But I knew it was the right choice.

"I love you, Maria, mi Madre."

"I love you too," she replied hugging me tight. "I will always pray for you each day in the Cathedral. Farewell, mi niño."

-----

That morning, after I had gathered my few possessions, I went to the Nuestra Señora de la Luz and asked the captain for work. To my joy he gladly agreed.

We sailed around the coast of Spain and reached San Lucar and the mouth of the Guadalquivir River. When we docked in Seville, I was off the ship even before the captain and asked the first sailor I met, "Has Magellan put to sea yet?"

He looked at me as if I were mad and simply replied, "No."

I hurried back on board, sighing with relief, and collected my belongings, my pay and left without another word. I had to find Antonio and I felt sure he would be in one of the seaside taverns. I went from tavern to tavern, asking about the Italian until, four taverns later, I found the one he was frequenting. I ordered our favorite wine and settled in. I didn't wait long before he burst through the doors. Before he made it to the bar, I managed to intercept him. "Signore, would you care to share a drink with me?"

"Mendoza!" he said, shaking my hand so hard I nearly dropped the wine bottle. "How the devil did you get here?" We sat down at a table, filled our glasses and I told him the story. "Well, my friend, I will take you to Magellan."

Talking on our way to the docks, Antonio told me what had been happening since he arrived. King Charles had ordered Magellan to sail within the week. "Your king is anxious for the fleet to set off. We are not fully supplied and will have to put in at San Lucar to get more." The docks were filled with workers, seaman and people going about their business. In the distance, I could see a group of five ships where most of the activity seemed to be centered. _What would this outcast Portuguese Magellan be like_? I thought, as we neared our destination.

At the gangplank of one of the ships, a man, about Antonio's age, was coiling a long piece of rope. "Enrique!" Antonio called. The man straitened and smiled as Antonio and I approached. This Enrique had the dark skin like that of an Indian, but his facial features seemed different.

"Senhor Pigafetta! You're back early today," Enrique said.

"I ran into a friend I didn't expect to see. I want to introduce him to your master."

Enrique looked me up and down suspiciously. Antonio laughed. "Don't worry, mio amico, he is not a spy, like me, or an assassin. Please, where can I find Magellan?"

"He is in his cabin on board, Senhor," the young man replied, still looking at me skeptically.

"Thank you, Enrique."

Antonio and I moved on and, when we were out of earshot, I asked him, "Who is that Enrique? He looks something like an Indian yet different."

"Yes," Antonio nodded, "he is Magellan's slave, though they act more like father and son rather than master and servant. I've heard it said that Magellan found him among the slave pits of Malacca in the East Indies and bought him to save his life. Ever since, Enrique has always been at the Captain's side."

"And what was that 'spy' business?"

Antonio laughed. "Didn't you know that I was sent by Italy and the Vatican to spy on Magellan and inform them of developments in trade routes? It is common knowledge among the crew."

I shook my head in amusement. "I didn't know, but I should have. You know far too many details about Magellan to be simply an adventurer."

We were on the deck of the _Trinidad_ and had just finished climbing the aft stairs that led to the Captain's cabin, when that very door opened and a man stepped out. He limped foreword to the rail and looked out at the bustling activity aboard the vessel. I knew that this must be Magellan yet his appearance surprised me. A short, heavyset man with a square, weather beaten face, he seemed to have no command presence whatsoever. This was the man who was going to lead us into the unknown?

"Capitano, may I have a word with you?" Antonio asked, and I was surprised at the amount of respect in his voice.

_Somehow, Magellan had impressed my friend, this Italian spy_, I thought as Magellan turned to face us...and I met his steady gaze. I felt my spine stiffen as my military training told me to stand at attention. His eyes erased every notion I had before. Dark, keen and piercing, although not unkind. You immediately knew looking into them that here was a man used to giving commands and being obeyed. And I instinctively responded. It was all I could do to keep from saluting.

"Well, Senhor Pigafetta, what do you have here?" He walked awkwardly to where we stood, not taking his eyes from me.

"This is Mendoza, a friend of mine and an excellent seaman. He wishes to join your crew, sir."

Magellan raised a hand stopping Antonio from saying anything more. "You are a sailor?"

I nodded. "Sí, Capitán."

"I would have said you were a soldier."

"I was a soldier, Capitán, but have returned to my first love...the sea." I responded, although he said it as a statement, not a question.

"Ah, it was the same for me." Magellan smiled at this and then asked, "Where were you stationed and where have you sailed?"

"My father was a captain and I sailed with him as a boy. He died while I was still young. When I was sixteen, I joined the army and was stationed in Cuba."

Here Magellan interrupted me. "Any skirmishes?"

"A few Captain, but they were not the reason for leaving the military."

"Then what was?"

"A disagreement with my commanding officer." Magellan actually laughed at this and motioned for me to continue. "After that I left the King's army and took work aboard a ship bound for Barcelona."

"Why did you not come with Senhor Pigafetta three months ago if he was your friend?"

"I had unfinished business in Barcelona, Captain."

Reading the expression on my face, Magellan seemed to decide not to pursue his questions any further. He turned to Antonio and said, "This is a change, isn't Senhor Pigafetta. A Spaniard who actually _wants_ to join us." Then he and Antonio laughed. I didn't understand the joke.

I looked at him, hardly daring to breathe. "Capitán, do you mean that I may join your expedition?" His reply was to put out his hand. I shook it gratefully. "Thank you, Captain."

He waved my thanks away. "You may not be thanking me when this voyage is over." Magellan turned his attention away from me. "Senhor Pigafetta, take our new crewman to the _Victoria_.I think he will prove valuable to her crew."

"Aye, Capitano," Antonio replied. When we were away, he said, "Amazing man, that Magellan. To have come through so much. You can only believe that he is destined to be remembered with Columbus and da Gama when all of this is history." My friend's tone and expression changed from awe to anger. "That is, if we succeed. But if we don't, it won't be Magellan's fault."

"What do you mean?" I asked. "You speak as if the voyage was already in jeopardy."

"I mean that Magellan has many powerful enemies. The most powerful is Bishop Juan Rodriguez de Fonseca. He has been conspiring against Magellan from the moment your King agreed to this voyage. He and his allies hate the captain merely because he is Portuguese and they are Spanish. The long-standing feud between your country and theirs is putting this venture at risk. Magellan had his crew selected long ago, as I told you, before Bishop Fonseca learned they were mostly Portuguese. It was he who complained so loudly that your King forced Magellan to replace them with Spaniards, most of whom deserted soon after. Even the captains that Magellan had chosen were replaced. Fonseca had his own son, Juan de Cartegena, (although he is referred to as his "nephew") named second in command of the fleet and captain of the largest ship, the _San Antonio_."

We were walking up the gangplank of the Victoria...when the sight of a man standing on the deck of the ship brought me to a choking halt. Antonio continued speaking, not noticing my hesitance, "The other ships, Concepción, Santiago, and Victoria, are also captained by Spaniards. Gaspar de Quesada, Juan Rodríguez Serrano and Luis de Mendoza."

Luis de Mendoza! My uncle! The only man who could still strike fear into my heart was indeed standing before me. And I was going to be sailing on this voyage under his command.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

You probably noticed a lot of foreign words in this chapter. I will use Portuguese, Italian and Spanish titles and small phrases when possible, but the only language I actually have some little knowledge of is Spanish. :D

**History**: I must say that I am a little biased when it comes to Magellan. I just think he was a fascinating individual who undertook an astonishing enterprise. Modern scholars like to point out that modern space explorers knew much more about the environment they were traveling to in rockets than Magellan and his crew knew about the region they were sailing into. I also have a hearty appreciation for the real Antonio Pigafetta, who one historian described as a 16th century anthropologist. If you read his diary of the voyage, you will understand why. You can almost feel his excitement as he describes the different people that the fleet encounters. But then I am a stuffy historian type myself and find that sort of stuff fascinating anyway.

Reviews make me happy and promote quick chapter updates. ;)


	8. Entry 7

**Port of San Julian. Winter Quarters. June 1520.**

Four more of the native men came to us today. They were unarmed and seemed friendly. Magellan was impressed with the youngest of these Indians and wanted to capture them, but by Spanish law, these natives couldn't be taken as slaves unless they fought us. This problem was conveniently solved when the _Concepcion's_ navigator, João Carvalho, 'found' weapons hidden nearby. But, the Admiral didn't want to take the Indians by force and used a trick instead.

As our guests were about to leave, the Captain General had many gifts brought to them and they soon had as much as they could carry. Then iron shackles were shown to the unknowing natives. Iron is very rare and valuable in this land and the Indians were anxious to have them as well as the other gifts but couldn't carry anymore. Magellan made signs that the rings could be placed on their legs. The natives agreed and immediately, the shackles were closed and locked.

Despite efforts to calm them, the Indians knew at once that they had been tricked and struggled greatly trying to free themselves. It took several crewmen to subdue each of them. Two of the four were offered their freedom in return for leading a group of our men to their village and their help in capturing the wives of the two remaining captives.

I, personally, don't like this enslavement and feel it is beneath Magellan to stoop to these measures. I refused to take part in the abduction party, which is led by Carvalho of all people. I don't trust him. I feel the Admiral has forgiven his fellow countryman too quickly especially after his involvement in the mutiny and his other deceptions. This attack can only cause more trouble for the fleet.

**Seville, Spain. August 1519. **

I stood at the top of the gangplank of the Victoria, staring at the man who had made my life a living Hell for years. What could I do? This voyage was the chance of a lifetime, but how could I take orders from Luis de Mendoza? How could I trust him? A sailor should be able to trust his captain! There was always the chance that he wouldn't recognize me, but that was unlikely. I had changed a lot in the last four years, but I looked much like my father, too much like Luis himself.

Antonio finally noticed my hesitation and pulled me onto the deck saying, "Come, come Mendoza! What are you waiting for?"

_I am trying to decide if I want to run or not, _I replied in my mind, but said nothing aloud. I had few choices and I was tired of running from my uncle, tired of being afraid of him. I walked slowly behind Antonio. Luis's back was to us and he did not notice us as we came aboard.

"Captain Mendoza, may I have a word with you? The Captain General has sent this seaman to join your crew and..." Antonio started as Luis turned to face us. Apparently, my friend hadn't made the connection of the Captain's name and mine being the same and only realized our relation when he saw the two of us together.

"I see," Luis smoothly cut in as Antonio trailed off. He sounded completely disinterested, but I could see the recognition in his eyes. "Welcome aboard the Victoria, Señor. Report to the ship's master. He will show you where you can stow your gear and give you your watch assignment." And with that, he turned away and went into his cabin.

Antonio turned to me when Luis was out of sight and asked in a hushed tone, "Are you related to the Captain?"

I nodded dumbly, not wanting to speak.

Antonio looked as if he realized something for the first time. "You don't get along, I take it." Again, I nodded. He sighed and shrugged his shoulders. "Well my friend, the best of luck to you. I sail with Magellan on the _Trinidad_, but I am sure I will see you sometimes. Don't worry about Captain Mendoza. He can't do anything too bad to you so have no fear. Your fate is in Magellan's hands, not his."

_You don't know him_, I thought, but again merely nodded. Antonio clapped me on the shoulder and left.

-----

I managed to find the master, a man by the name of Antonio Salamón and found a place for the few belongings I had. I spent the rest of the day becoming familiar with the ship I was to sail on.

I slept little that night and thought a lot. Antonio was right after a fashion. Luis couldn't harm me. As long as I did my duty and gave him no cause to notice me, I shouldn't have any problems. But, the thought of spending the next two to three years under his command made my skin crawl.

-----

The morning of August 10 dawned cool and bright.

As I talked to the other crewmembers, I learned that although we weren't fully supplied, the King was forcing Magellan to sail from Seville. Or at least the fleet was leaving Seville. Magellan and the fleet officers, including my uncle, were staying as there were still many details to complete (much to my delight). The fleet would put in at San Lucar and later, the Canaries, to finish the provisioning.

But the official start of the expedition was that morning. All the crews and officers assembled at dawn for a solemn Mass of farewell. Magellan received the silken Royal standard and vowed to claim any lands we discovered in the name of King Charles. Then his captains, pilots and masters knelt before the Captain-General(1) and swore to obey him in all things. And yet, the Spanish captains Juan de Cartegena of the _San Antonio_, Gaspar de Quesada of the _Concepcion_, and my uncle, Luis de Mendoza clenched their teeth as they spoke the words. It was obvious they hated Magellan.

I knew then the voyage was bound for trouble.

-----

For the most part, our stay in San Lucar was uneventful and lasted a little over a month. But, a few days before we were to sail from port, Portuguese spies raided the _San Antonio _and stole a large portion of the supplies the ship carried. At first I, like everyone else, believed this was only as act of sabotage and revenge against Magellan. Now, I wonder if this was something more sinister.

The _San Antonio_, like the rest of the fleet, was docked in a Spanish port with a full crew aboard, and yet, a group of Portuguese saboteurs were able to take so much? I now believe Cartegena allowed this to happen to delay Magellan or to force him to abort the expedition. He truly knew nothing of the Captain's character if that was what he expected. It is not in Magellan's nature to be so easily stopped.

We sailed away from San Lucar, away from Spain, on the twentieth of September. No one could have known what lay ahead.

-----

Our course was to the southwest and our destination was one of the Canary Islands called Teneriffe at 28 N latitude. But, before we reached the island, I had a not-so-friendly conversation with Uncle Luis. He waited until we were at sea, perhaps to keep me from deserting though I cannot be sure of his motives. I do know that he waited long enough that I began to relax.

I was going about my duties that day, pleased to be out at sea and quite unaware of Uncle Luis's scrutiny. I was aloft in the rigging when the master's mate, Miguel de Rodas, called me down. Dropping quickly to the deck, I was shocked when I was ordered to report to the Captain. I had no choice. The time for a confrontation had come.

I walked to his cabin, not slowly, but not at my usual stride either. I had to be confident! I was not the twelve-year-old boy to be bullied, but a man in control of my own destiny.

I knocked briskly on the door and heard the expected, "Come in." I stepped smartly into the cabin...and waited. Luis stood with his back to me and I had time to examine his cabin. It was richly appointed. If not for the cramped conditions and the roll of the deck, it might have been his study in Granada.

Still not facing me, Luis finally spoke. "Isn't fate strange, Nephew? I did not expect to ever see you again and from your attitude, you thought the same."

Refusing to be intimidated, I replied, "Fate, I have learned, has a sense of humor."

"I thought you were going to be a soldier with that Gomez fellow," he sneered.

"I was," I stated matter-of-factly, "but I found I didn't care for a soldier's life and left His Majesty's army."

Luis snorted and finally turned to look at me. His appearance had not changed much over the years. He still had the same piecing, cold and calculating gaze. "You've grown up," he said with a warm smile.

That was enough. This 'good uncle' act was getting old. "Was there something you wanted, Captain?"

"Can I not speak with my nephew who I have not seen in four years?" I only continued to stare at him. He laughed slightly. "Very well. I will speak frankly," he looked at me and this time he didn't hide his contempt. "You will remain silent about who you are. You are a seaman, nothing more."

"I don't want to be anything 'more'," I replied, equally cold.

"Good," Luis turned away again. "Then there will be no 'misunderstandings'." Clearly dismissed, I left quickly, anxious to be away from him.

-----

We reached the island of Teneriffe after sailing for six days, but we had barely begun provisioning when a fast caravel arrived from Spain. I learned later that it carried two urgent messages for the Captain-General. The first message warned that Portuguese ships were lying in wait for our fleet on the normal route from the Canaries to the New World. If they captured our ships, Magellan would be arrested and taken back to Portugal to stand trial for treason. The second letter held even worse news. It was from the Admiral's father-in-law, who warned that there was evidence that a pact had been made among some of the fleet's captains. They planned to mutiny, kill Magellan and take over the expedition. The Admiral was careful to kept these messages a secret and all I knew at the time was there was trouble aboard the _Victoria_.

Cartegena, Quesada and my uncle Mendoza were meeting aboard her, and they were plotting against Admiral Magellan. This alone wasn't enough to raise my suspicions, but the appearance of two of the fleet's navigators, Portuguese pilots(2) Estevão Gomes and João Carvalho, was.

Very curious of this new development, I positioned myself at the stern of the ship, above the captain's cabin. The men in the cabin below were careful to keep their voices low. I could only make out a few words, but their meaning was clear...Mutiny.

Joining the crew going ashore for supplies, I made my way to the _Trinidad_. I marveled at the conspirators' audacity. Only a week out of Spain and they were planning to take over the fleet. I had to warn the Captain-General.

I had just begun to climb the gangplank of the flagship when a figure stepped in front of me. "Where do you think you are going, seaman?"

"Let me pass, Señor. I must speak to the Captain-General," I said as I tried to push past the man.

"Be careful, boy," the then unknown man growled. "I could throw you in the brig for such insubordination."

"And who am I being insubordinate to, may I ask?" I said angrily.

"Gonzalo Gómez de Espinosa, the Master-at-arms of the fleet," he said with quiet menace.

I silently cursed my luck and backed up quickly. "My apologies, Master Espinosa. I will leave." I felt the captain of the guard's eyes on my back as I quickly departed. I wasn't prepared to go the brig to stop the conspirators and my uncle. At least, not yet.

I wandered away from the flagship in a stupor, not knowing what to do...and nearly ran into Enrique. Looking up I could see the schemers leaving the Victoria in the distance and coming in this direction.

Enrique was opening his mouth to say something but I cut him off. "Listen Enrique, don't speak! Cartegena and his accomplices are planning to mutiny. I've tried to warn Magellan, but Espinosa wouldn't let me speak to him. You are his closest companion, you must tell him of this danger."

Enrique was looking at me as if I had a second head, but I didn't have time to explain further. The mutineers were coming closer and I didn't want them to see me. "Hurry. You must deliver this message to the Admiral." As I hurried away, I glanced back at Enrique who was just beginning to grasp what I had said so hurriedly. He nodded and I slipped away.

I waited anxiously on the _Victoria_ for some word of what was happening. Luis had returned to the ship and everything was business as usual. But the tension aboard ship was growing.

Later that afternoon, a message arrived from the _Trinidad_ with word that Magellan had called a meeting to be held in his cabin. Captain Mendoza was immediately suspicious. Magellan had never called them to the flagship before, and he and the other captains were wary. I didn't know then exactly what occurred, but I have been able to piece together this account from the ship's rumors and conversations with a few participants.

The captains went in nervously, but Magellan's submissive behavior soon put them at ease. They insulted him and insisted he change course, sailing south instead of west. They intended to sail to the Spice Islands by the well-known route around the Cape of Good Hope. Unbeknownst to anyone at that time except the Captain-General himself, this was exactly what Magellan wanted. He had to change course in order to avoid the Portuguese warships that were laying in wait for the fleet.

Luis came back to the Victoria with the new orders. We now sailed south along the coast of Africa.

-----

For weeks, storms battered us. Just as the worst of these seemed to be over, we were caught in equatorial doldrums. The sun beat down upon us and the five ships. The stench from the bilges was nearly unbearable.

Tempers were running high and the growing insolence of the captains did not help matters. Cartegena was the chief of the instigator. He and his followers complained about every order that the Admiral gave until even the common seamen began to doubt Magellan's wisdom.

Cartegena upped the stakes even farther when he decided to become openly insolent. One evening off the coast of Guinea, the _San Antonio_ came along side the _Trinidad_. It had been ordered since the voyage began that every day before sunset, each ship must come along side the flagship and receive their sailing orders for the following day. The master of the ship was to call out to the Trinidad with this greeting, "Dios os salve, señor capitán general y maesre, e buena compañia!"(3) But that particular night, Cartegena didn't have his master call out the greeting, but rather a common seaman.

As Cartegena could well see, Magellan himself was on deck. The Admiral turned to Estevão Gomes and said something calmly. The pilot nodded and called out to Juan de Elorriaga, the master of the San Antonio, "Señor, the salute must be given in the proper manner!"

At that, Cartegena shouted so that even we aboard the _Victoria_ could hear, "My best seaman has given you the salute, but if you prefer Magellan, I will have it recited by a cabin boy!"

Luis was on deck, along with myself, as the openly insulting reply was given and I watched him smile at the words.

He wouldn't be smiling much longer.

-----

For the next three days, the _San Antonio_ would give no salute and matters deteriorated. Things could not go on as they were. In November 1519, another meeting was called.

As it was later told to me, Cartegena strutted about the Admiral's cabin and presumed to lecture Magellan on proper navigation, though Cartegena had never been to sea before this voyage and wouldn't know a compass from a hole in the ground! But, this talk was leading Cartegena into the trap that Magellan had set for him. His next words sprang it. "You endanger the fleet with your recklessness," Cartegena blurted. "I am no longer prepared to follow a hazardous course set by a fool!"

At that, Magellan sprang foreword, seizing Cartegena's shirt. "This is mutiny, and you are under arrest!"

Cartegena panicked. "Kill him," he screamed. But Captains Quesada, Mendoza and Serrano did not move.

Espinosa and his soldiers pulled Cartegena from the cabin. Magellan would have been justified by law to have had the _San Antonio's_ captain beheaded on the spot, but the Admiral chose to imprison the mutineer instead. The ships of the fleet were sailing close together and we could all plainly see Cartegena being dragged by Espinosa toward the stocks on the flagship's deck. This was the first the crew of the fleet knew of what had taken place. I couldn't help but smile at the spectacle.

The ringleader was going in the stocks normally reserved for the crew only when Captain Serrano interceded on his behalf. Even watching from the _Victoria_, I could tell he was pleading with Magellan and did not wish to see Cartegena punished in this manner. I could hardly believe my eyes when I clearly saw Magellan acquiesce and remand the prisoner, not to Serrano as one would have expected, but to Luis. Even worse, Magellan later appointed Antonio de Coca, one of Cartegena's accomplices, as the new captain of the San Antonio.

It seemed that this wasn't the end of the trouble, only the beginning.

That night, the calm finally broke.

A gale pushed the fleet west toward the New Continent. I and others aboard the _Victoria_ saw strange lights at the top of the masts. I had never seen anything like it before. Some of the more experienced sailors told me it was St. Elmo's fire.

It was an ominous sign.(4)

* * *

**Author's Notes**

1) Magellan's titles were Captain General, Admiral or simply Captain, but I use all three interchangeably.

2) Pilot is another name for the ship's navigator.

3) "God save you, captain general sir, ship's master and good ship's company!"

4 ) Actually in my research I read that seeing St. Elmo's fire was a good omen, but decided to keep with MCoG's interpretation.

**History**: It is actually a controversy in the historical literature whether Magellan or the Spanish captains were the more justified in their actions. Some say the Spaniards had good reason to mistrust Magellan and his abilities, while other say that there is no justification for mutiny. Pigafetta's diary is curiously silent about the fleet politics during this period of the voyage and the historical researcher can interpret this lack of information in any manner they choose.

Also if the beginning of this chapter disturbed you, you were not the only one. I was horrified by how casually and inhumanly the people Magellan and other explorers encountered were treated. The incident described really took place and it still makes me sick to think about it. :(

**Inspiration**: In McoG Mendoza is always so confident of his abilities and decisions that I thought it would be interesting to create this self-assurance during this period, especially in regards to authority figures like Captain Mendoza. In the series Mendoza is often sarcastic and even disrespectful to those in command, such as Gaspar, and I thought it would be interesting to explore how this might have developed by the leadership of the captains of the fleet all of whom, except Serrano I think, had no sailing experience whatsoever. Certainly wouldn't have inspired confidence in me! Our navigator's later actions when he encounters incompetent leaders would then be more explainable, at least they were to me. :)

Reviews make me happy and promote quick chapter updates. ;)


	9. Entry 8

**Port of San Julian. Winter Quarters. June 1520.**

As I feared, the attack Carvalho led was a grave mistake. He forced two of our captives to take him and fifteen heavily armed men to their village. After locating the wives of the two Indians still imprisoned on our ships, the Portuguese navigator decided to spend the night there.

His captives lay quietly until morning, when all at once they leapt up and escaped. Carvalho's men fired after them but harmed no one. We, on the other hand, suffered a casualty. One of the men under Carvalho's command was struck by a poisoned arrow and died. After this, the pilot quickly retreated back to the safety of the fleet.

This isn't the first time Carvalho's incompetence has nearly caused disaster.

**The New Continent. November - December 1519**

On November 29, 1519, the lookouts finally sighted the coast of the New Continent.

Magellan allowed the _Concepcion_ to lead the fleet along the coast as her navigator, the conspirator Carvalho, had sailed these waters before. Eight years ago, he had traveled to this land on a Portuguese merchant vessel. According to the pilot, his ship had sailed into a bay where the Portuguese met friendly natives who had abundant fruits, vegetables, fish and game. Magellan agreed that this bay, called Guanabara11 by Carvalho, would make an excellent port where the fleet could rest.

Despite Carvalho's assurance that he knew these waters, his carelessness nearly brought about a calamity. Apparently, he was unaware of a strong inshore current between two capes, called São Tomé and Frio, and led the fleet too close to the shore on the approach. Without the alertness of the fleet navigator Gomes aboard the _Trinidad_, the whole fleet would have been run onto the rocks of the coast.

-----

Shortly after this close call, on December 13, we sailed into a paradise! Fortunately, Carvalho had been right about this place. It was a harbor unlike any other in the world. The fleet passed an imposing rounded mountain and dropped anchor in seven fathoms. Thick forests stretched as far as we could see except for where the golden beaches met the azure waters of the bay.

We had hardly arrived when a flotilla of canoes surrounded our ships. Carvalho assured everyone that they were friendly and that he had, in fact, lived with these people for four years.

We were all anxious to go ashore and sample the pleasures of this land. Magellan was willing to allow the shore leave, but let us go with a warning. "The Pope has given this land to Portugal and we are trespassing. I will allow no harm to come to this land or its people. We have come in peace and will depart in peace."

-----

I met Antonio soon after I stepped on the beach. He was carrying a notebook and was furiously scribbling descriptions of the Indians that surrounded us. He was so involved with this that he hardly greeted me.

Taking note of Antonio's interest, Carvalho walked to where we were standing. "Our arrival has provoked a great deal of excitement," he explained to us. "The natives have told me that they have been suffering from a drought and we arrived with the rain they needed."

Antonio looked up from his writing, suddenly interested. "You can speak to them?"

"Of course! I lived in this harbor for four years."

"Tell me about them."

I leaned against a tree while the navigator regaled my friend with stories of these people.

"They are cannibals, you know," Carvalho said at length, "but not because they like the taste of human flesh. It is their custom. It started when an old woman of these people's only son was killed by their enemies. Days later, her friends brought her an enemy captive and remembering her son's death, she flew at him in rage and bit his shoulder. The captive escaped and told his people his captors had tried to eat him. Ever since, when one side captures an enemy, they are eaten."

It was all I could do to keep from laughing out loud. The Indians moving among us on the beach were hardly what I could call dangerous cannibals and I was fairly sure Carvalho was just spinning a yarn for my friend. Antonio was writing everything down with great interest and asking many questions. He would have gladly stayed there the rest of the day satisfying his curiosity, but a pretty young native woman and a small child drew Carvalho's attention away from the Italian.

The girl spoke to the navigator softly and pulled the boy in front of her. Carvalho smiled at them and motioned for them both to follow him.

Antonio and I looked at each other and without a word, followed the trio up the beach toward the place where Magellan himself had landed.

"Admiral, may I have a word with you?" Carvalho called as he approached.

Magellan turned toward the pilot. "Yes Senhor Carvalho?"

"Captain, you were aware that I lived with these people some years ago and I just learned that I have a son." The navigator pulled the little boy into view. "I would like, with your permission, to take the boy and his mother with me aboard my ship."

The Captain General considered for a moment. "I will allow your son to go along as the ship's cabin boy, but you know that I cannot permit a woman to come with us. This voyage will be long and dangerous. I won't allow even one woman to threaten the expedition. She must stay here."

The navigator was obviously annoyed with this but responded, "Yes Captain General."

-----

The next few days were bliss. The natives were very friendly and often bartered with us. Antonio made some particularly fine bargains. He traded a small pair of scissors for enough fish to feed ten of us and exchanged a single playing card for five fowls and it was the native who thought he had cheated my friend.

But soon my attention was turned to darker matters.

-----

As I had expected, placing Cartegena in my uncle's care was almost the same as letting him retain his former position. The "prisoner" had the run of the ship and all were afraid to defy his command.

Things only became worse when we landed. Luis and Cartegena immediately began plotting against Magellan again. Luis even brought Cartegena ashore secretly to meet with their confederates.

I was always mindful of the two and followed after them to a secret rendezvous place. After watching the other conspirators gather, I went in search of an ally of my own. Antonio was useless in this situation. He was actually surprised when I told him of Cartegena's original imprisonment. He must have slept through that whole episode. I also couldn't approach the Admiral directly without alerting my uncle and the other would-be mutineers.

So I bided my time and waited for an opportunity to present itself. It wasn't long in coming though even I was surprised by its source.

-----

The easygoing attitude of the native girls was proving a real discipline problem. Despite the Captain General's attempts to keep order, which included holding Mass ashore twice during our stay, things were degenerating into a debauched orgy. Even some of the officers, who should have tried to maintain a semblance of command, joined in.

Duarte Barbosa, Magellan's own brother-in-law left his post aboard the Trinidad for three days and nights. The Admiral was so infuriated he dispatched a squad of soldiers to arrest Barbosa and had him clapped in irons.

In all this excitement, I was finally able to warn Magellan through the same confidant as before...Enrique. He came ashore with the soldiers, but remained behind when Barbosa was dragged back to the flagship. Now my only problem was how to speak to him without drawing to much attention.

The arrest had drawn quite a crowd of curious spectators on the beach. I carefully picked my way through the masses toward my target. I stepped beside Enrique and said in a conversational tone, "The sea is getting rough again. It might be wise to seek shelter." Enrique gave me a curious look and I tried to tell him with my gaze that I wished to speak to him.

"Yes. I will make a note of that," he replied in the same manner.

I walked away slowly and went into the cover of the jungle to wait and see if Enrique had understood. I waited...and waited. I had just concluded that I needed to come up with a new plan when a hand fell on my shoulder. I jumped up and turned defensively. Enrique quickly put out his hand to silence me. I could hardly believe his stealth. He could move more quietly than the spotted yellow cats that lived in those very forests.

"What is going on that you must take such precautions to speak to me, Senhor?"

One word was enough of a reply. "Cartegena."

Enrique's eyes grew large as I explained about the secret meetings on shore whose purpose was to depose and perhaps murder Magellan.

"I knew it was a mistake to appoint Antonio de Coca to be the _San Antonio's_ captain!" Enrique exclaimed angrily. "He is another 'nephew' of our friend Bishop Fonseca."

"Why did Magellan choose him to be captain if he knew he was his enemy?"

Enrique shrugged, "Even I don't always understand my master. Perhaps he hoped to make peace with his adversaries, but I don't know for certain. The real question is what should we do about Cartegena and his conspirators?"

"I can show you where they are meeting so you can inform the Admiral," I offered.

"Why don't we simply inform my master now?" Enrique asked. "Why all of this secrecy?"

I looked away. "I don't want them to know it was me who informed Magellan of their activities. Besides, I'll be more useful if I remain anonymous. I will then be able to continue watching them."

Enrique moved so he could look me in the eye again. "I don't understand you. Are you not a Spaniard and even a relative of Captain Mendoza? And yet you help us. Why?"

I couldn't keep from being a bit surprised. "How do you know that? How do you know that I am related to Luis de Mendoza?"

He looked at me incredulously. "You share the same name and even have similar looks. A great mind isn't needed to figure it out." He smiled. "I also heard something about it from Senhor Pigafetta." I made a mental note to tell Antonio to keep my private information to himself the next time I saw him. Enrique puzzled by my silence, grew serious again. "You still haven't answered my question."

_Why do I help them and fight Luis? Perhaps it is because Magellan reminds me of the father I lost. Or maybe it is simply my way of getting revenge on the uncle who should have been my ally and not my enemy. _I gathered my thoughts as best I could and replied, "My reasons are my own. It is partly because of the oath I swore in Seville, partly for other reasons. Does it really matter? Let it suffice that I am helping you and your master."

He held my gaze a moment longer and then shrugged. "As you wish. I will keep your secret. Time is passing and I must get back to the _Trinidad_ to warn Magellan." He stood up and looked down at me. "You should leave too."

I nodded. "Gracias, Enrique."

He shook his head. "It is I who should thank you."

-----

The Admiral didn't waste anytime in moving against the conspirators. He was furious that Luis and Antonio de Coca had disobeyed his commands. The soldiers were again dispatched and I can only imagine the looks of surprise of the mutineers when they were arrested. Cartegena, Coca, Luis and their allies were brought to the beach where Magellan himself confronted them. I was careful to remain in the background, but could see and hear all that was taking place.

Magellan spoke first. "I have been too lenient with you, Juan de Cartegena. I allow you to remain at liberty instead of throwing you into the brig where you belong and you repay me with more treachery!"

Cartagena's reply was cool and calm, but his eyes burned with hate. "My friends you see here," he nodded at those who had been arrested with him, "merely took pity on me and allowed me to join in the pleasures here on shore. Is that a crime or a betrayal of trust, Captain General?"

Magellan calmed himself and answered with equal frigid ease. "You must really think me to be a fool, if you expect me to believe that. I know that you were plotting to remove me from command."

"Where, may I ask, did you receive such information? I'm afraid your source was mistaken!" Cartegena's smooth surface was beginning to fracture.

"You may not ask and I trust my source far more than you." With that, the Captain General turned to his attention to the other conspirators. "Obviously my faith in you, Antonio de Coca, was misplaced. Coca, you no longer command the _San Antonio_ and I will appoint your replacement later. Luis de Mendoza, Cartegena is no longer in your custody and I warn you not to associate with him again." He looked at their other companions. "The rest of you would do well to follow that advice as well."

Magellan once again turned his piecing gaze on their leader. "Cartegena, I would be well within the law to have you executed. But, since you seem to enjoy the 'pleasures here on shore' so much, you may remain here. You will be marooned." Magellan followed this surprising announcement by addressing the crew in a loud voice. "Discipline has become a farce since we dropped anchor here. Espinosa!" he called.

The captain of the guard stepped up smartly. "Here, Captain."

"Round up the men and clear the ships of Indians," Magellan ordered. "We will continue south as soon as everything is in readiness."

The crowd murmured angrily at having their shore leave cut short, but no one would take on the Admiral when he was in this temper. Espinosa issued a series of orders to his soldiers and they moved off. The crew began to disperse, still grumbling. I remained where I was and continued to observe the events unfolding before me.

Captain Serrano stepped foreword to speak to Magellan. "Captain General, I ask you to reconsider your decision concerning Cartegena."

Magellan gave Serrano an appraising look and replied, "I heeded your words once before and look what has been the result. More treachery. Cartegena does not deserve another chance."

"I agree, Captain, but it is not for his sake that I speak."

Magellan turned to face the other captain. "Then for whose sake do you speak?"

"For yours, Sir," Serrano asserted. "Cartegena was appointed to his position by the King and he has powerful allies at court. You should take care, Admiral."

"I will consider what you have said Captain Serrano." With that, Magellan went back to the _Trinidad_.

I too considered what Serrano had said and couldn't help but wonder what his true intentions were. As I stood pondering these questions, Antonio strolled up behind me, still scribbling in that infernal notebook. Finishing a sentence, he looked up and asked perplexed, "Has something happened?"

-----

Not long after I returned to the Victoria that night, I learned of Magellan's decision regarding the captaincy of the San Antonio. His choice was startling. He appointed his own kinsman, Álarvo de Mesquita, who know less than Cartegena about sailing and was only a supernuminaryp22 on the _Trinidad_.

And that was not the worst of it. The Admiral also transferred Estevão Gomez from his position as navigator of the fleet aboard the flagship to serve the novice Captain Mesquita. Although it was undeniable that Mesquita was loyal to the Captain General, it was also rumored that Gomes had expected to be appointed to the position. Magellan had no reason to trust Gomes, who had desired command of the whole fleet and had even petitioned the King, but naming him to this new role aboard the _San Antonio_ would undoubtedly be seen as a demotion, adding insult to injury. The final blow was that Magellan relented and allowed Cartegena to remain with the fleet. This time Quesada would be his keeper aboard the _Concepcion_.

The situation was quickly going from bad to worse.

-----

By Christmas Eve, the fleet was ready to sail again. The longboats towed our ships from the shelter of the bay and we celebrated the Feast of the Nativity on board.

On the morning of the 27 of December, we began to sail with a fair wind from the north. The fleet headed west-southwest under full sail.

-----

We sailed past coastal mountains and several islands. After a fortnight, Magellan began searching for Cape Santa Mariá.33 At midday on January 11, we emerged from a squall and saw three hills on a low coast, which was the marker of Cape Santa Mariá. The Captain General then knew that we had sailed across the Line of Demarcation. The land to the south could legitimately be claimed for Spain. We no longer had to be concerned about encounters with Portuguese vessels and could now explore every promising inlet for passage to the great western sea.

The _Victoria_, along with the _Santiago_, led the way as we were the smallest ships in the fleet and the least likely to be grounded in the unfamiliar waters.

We suffered from frequent, bitter cold storms. We were forced to take refuge in a huge inlet that seemed to stretch indefinitely to the west. It was soon evident that Magellan believed this to be the Paso we sought, but after two weeks of fruitless searching it became clear the inlet was in fact the estuary of a great river.44

This was a tremendous blow to the Captain General. But his disappointment had to be kept secret from the captains and crew for it would be very dangerous for them to know the information he had was inaccurate.

Again, we were forced to sail south.

-----

The coasts became more barren and desolate the farther south we sailed. The skies grew ever darker and winter for these latitudes was approaching. Unless we found the strait soon, we would have only two options: return to Spain or establish winter quarters.

We all thought of the paradise we had left only two months before as we looked at the hostile landscape and watched its strange animals, flightless black geese and giant sea wolves.55

On February 24, we sighted another possible pass, but our scouts returned with only the bodies of slaughtered sea wolves and not the hoped for news.

Farther and farther south we sailed along the gloomy coast, beneath ominous skies. The storms only increased and many of the men and officers begged Magellan to return to Guanabara where we could take on fresh supplies and repair the ships. The Admiral would not consent to this and all in the fleet knew that a sheltered anchorage must be found where we could spend the winter.

On March 31, 1520, the day before Easter Sunday, we entered a bay, which Magellan named in honor of Saint Julian. After the scouts brought back a favorable report, the fleet anchored in the inner harbor.

The crews grew more dissatisfied and resentful. Many said that "this insane Portuguese" would lead us only to an icy death. All of this was made worse when the Captain General announced that rations would be cut in half to preserve the wine and biscuit until we sailed again in the spring. The officers and crew were outraged and every ship sent deputations to the _Trinidad_. I managed to join the group being sent from the _Victoria_ and watched my uncle Luis and the other captains carefully.

Magellan listened to the grievances and made a bold reply. "We will not suffer from hunger and cold. Fish and shellfish are abundant here and we will find game in the hills near the coast. There is fresh water and plenty of firewood. We will build shelters and work sheds ashore so we can work and rest in warmth and comfort. By spring, our ships will be repaired and ready to continue on our journey to the Spice Islands, a paradise that will make the attractions of the lands we have left pale in comparison. Do not fear to travel farther south. Do not the men of northern Europe make long voyages at even higher latitudes?"

"I prize my honor above all else and would rather die than return to Spain before completing the task we have pledged our lives to." I don't know why but my blood ran cold at these words. "If necessary, I will sail as far south as 75º or until we reach polar ice." The Admiral met the eyes of each of the men that had gathered together. "The men of Castile are renowned the world over for their strength, courage and resourcefulness. Will you quail before a few snowflakes and go scurrying back to Spain like beaten dogs with their tails between their legs!"

The crewmen were stirred back to courage by Magellan's words, but it was clear the captains were not impressed. The men began to return to their own ships. Magellan addressed the commanders of his fleet one more time, formally inviting them to attend Mass with him on Easter Sunday and to later dine with him in his cabin. They didn't respond.

I saw that Luis did not return to the Victoria with his crew. Instead, he joined Quesada and those going to the _Concepcion_.

I knew trouble was brewing again and that it would be worse than anything before.

-----

Early Easter Sunday, April 1, 1520, Magellan summoned all hands but deck watches ashore to attend Mass, but Luis and Quesada defied the orders and remained aboard their ships. Later that night, no one attended the Admiral's dinner save his cousin, Álarvo de Mesquita.

I knew without a doubt the day would not dawn before blood was spilt. And I would be caught in the middle.

**1Author's Notes**

 We modern folk know this place as Rio de Janeiro.

2 Basically just an observer not expected to help with duties aboard ship except in an emergency.

3 Punta del Este on the coast of Uruguay

4 Rio de la Plata

5 Penguins and sea lions


	10. Entry 9

**Port of San Julian. Winter Quarters. August 24, 1520**

We are finally leaving San Julian. After five months, the fleet is moving on to the Rio de Santa Cruz, which Captain Serrano discovered.

There are several reasons for this change. First, the river is abundant with food and wood. We can replenish our supplies before continuing on our voyage. Also, since Carvalho's failed attack on the Indian village, there has been constant trouble between the native people and us.

But there are two things we will leave behind in this wilderness: Cartegena and his collaborator Bernard Calmette, one of the fleet's chaplains. They will be marooned here in this land. Cartegena continued to try and depose Magellan even after his mutiny was defeated when we first arrived here. This time at least, I didn't have to warn the Admiral. Opinion of the _San Antonio's_ former captain had fallen so low that the crewmen he was trying to subvert betrayed him to Magellan.

The Captain General was still reluctant to execute a captain appointed by the King and yet he could not forgive him again and risk him being able to raise a successful rebellion when we were at sea.

I cannot decide which is the more terrible punishment, death or marooning.

Despite all that he has done, I don't think anyone in the fleet can help, but regret what has to be done. I doubt I will ever hear of Juan de Cartegena again.

**Port of San Julian. Winter Quarters. April 2, 1520.**

I couldn't sleep that night. The tension was so thick in the air you could taste it.

Finally, during the second watch, I could no longer remain still and went up on deck. The night was inky black with only the pale illumination of the stars casting their rays on the scenery before me.

I looked out at the dim lights of the five other ships. After a few moments, I saw a boat leave the _Concepcion_ and watched in silence as the thirty or so men rowed to the _San Antonio_. It seemed almost like a ghost ship, eerie and quiet. No alarm was raised as they boarded her. All was still.

I stood in the bitter cold night dread filling me...when I heard a faint cry of pain. It came from the direction of the boarded ship. Shortly thereafter, I saw the black figures reboard the skiff and row back to the _Concepcion_ with only that one small, almost unheard, cry to speak as what had happened. But standing there in the darkness I knew. The _San Antonio_ had been taken!

The mutiny had begun...and, as Fate would have it, I was the only one who could warn Magellan.

Unable to take a boat by myself, I realized my only option was to swim to the _Trinidad_ to deliver my warning in person. But the sight of the icy cold, black water lapping against the ship chilled me to the core. But I had no choice!

I began to raise myself up over the railing when a hand jerked me back. "Release me!" I said angrily.

"I'm afraid that is not possible, Blas." I looked back in sudden fear. There stood my uncle, arms crossed standing behind the two men holding me back. "I can't allow you to warn Magellan of our little mutiny."

-----

I was dragged unceremoniously blow deck and tied in the hold of the Victoria.

Luis followed. Ordering the sailors back above deck, he came to where I was being held and stared at me coldly, "Was it you who warned that pig Magellan of our plans in the Portuguese lands? And the Canaries?"

I replied hotly. "My duty was to warn the Admiral of the fleet of the plot against him!"

Luis's cold eyes burned into me. "You have a duty to your family!" he hissed. "You are just like Diego! Always putting your own interest ahead of everything else!"

"What family?" I shot back. "When did you ever treat me like family! I was nothing to you!" I stopped unable to go on for a moment. "Why! I don't understand! Was it revenge against my father for leaving Granada so long ago?" I looked for a reaction in the shadows. There was none. "Why punish me for a wrong you think my father committed!"

Luis stood and turned away. "I'll deal with you later," he threatened. He called to the other men. "Tie his feet and gag him. I don't want him moving about and causing trouble today. The crew will be skittish enough with all of this without him making a scene." Then he was gone.

I was left alone in the dark with only rats to keep me company. Clearly the mutineers planned to move against the Trinidad at dawn and I had to escape before then.

-----

Enveloped in darkness, I wiggled about as best I could, searching for anything to cut the ropes and hoping the glowing eyes scurrying around me wouldn't bite.

As I struggled in the darkness, my hand brushed against something hard and cold. A ballast stone. It was cold as ice and yet seemed to have sharp, jagged edge. I knew I was lucky to find this much and maneuvered the stone in my hand to where I cold rub it against the ropes restraining me.

The progress was slow and tedious. I couldn't rush for with one wrong move I could drop the stone and, in this darkness, I might never find it again. After what seemed an eternity, I finally was able to snap the ropes and they loosened just a bit. I had managed to slice through a few fibers, but the rope still was tight about my wrists. I sighed in frustration.

It was going to be a very long night.

-----

Hours later, I still struggled with my bonds. The constant friction had rubbed my wrists raw and they ached from my attempts at freedom. I could feel blood occasionally drip from wounds inflicted by my activities.

Time was growing short. I pressed on as the growing light made my surroundings more discernable. At any moment I expected to hear the sound of cannons and the shouts of men.

With a final painful tug, I broke the remaining strands. I pulled the gag from my mouth and began working on the ropes around my legs. When I succeeded, I found I was still so stiff from my long hours of confinement that I could barely move.

I dragged myself to the hold ladder and carefully climbed up. The ship was very quiet, but there was an air of expectancy.

The men on the deck stood at the rail with their backs to me looking out over the port. Not wasting any time, I climbed quietly out of the hold and went to the opposite side of the ship. Catching hold of a rope, I tried to slide quietly into the water, but my stiff limbs staged a mutiny of their own. A few feet above the water, I slipped and fell in with a loud splash. The water was like a cold, suffocating blanket. I fought my way to the surface and came up sputtering. Looking up at the ship I saw a face peering down at me. It was Roderigo Gallego, a Castilian and one of the men I got along with.

"What was that?" a voice called out.

I put my finger to my lips, hoping he wouldn't give me away. He seemed to nod slightly and answered the voice, "Nada, a fish."

I sighed with relief and swam away from the ship. The morning fog covered my movements, but also obscured my target, the _Trinidad_. The water was colder than I thought. I felt like I had been turned to ice except for my wounded wrists that burned as if they were on fire. My muscles, already stiff from my long confinement, cramped as I struggled onward, swimming carefully so not to cause alarm.

I swam on! Where was the _Trinidad_! I paused a moment to look around, but could not see for the mist. I had no choice but to continue on my previous heading. The freezing water was sapping my strength and making it hard to think. I pushed the thoughts of panic to the back of my mind, but was beginning to fear that I had missed the ship. Suddenly, something in front of me loomed large in the mist. The old ship never looked as inviting as it did now. I caught hold of her anchor cable, gathered my strength and courage for a moment and pulled myself aboard.

"Ho there. What are you doing here!" a voice called. I dropped down onto the deck and looked up at Espinosa.

_Just my luck! Well, _I thought, _if I'm going to be arrested might as well be the headman who does it._ Using what strength I had left, I pulled myself to my feet and spoke. "I must speak to the Admiral at once. All of our lives are in danger!"

The Captain of the guard looked at me as if I were mad. He probably would have thrown me into the brig if fate hadn't stepped in.

"What goes on there, Espinosa?" another voice called, but this one I knew. Magellan. He stood with Enrique on the landing by his cabin door, in the same place I had been introduced to him.

"Nothing, Captain," Espinosa replied. "Just a half drowned rat that decided to come aboard. I'll take care of it, Sir."

By then, my teeth were chattering so badly that I would have found it difficult to protest, but fortunately, I didn't have too. I saw Enrique turn to Magellan and say something that was too low to be heard by anyone else.

Magellan nodded slightly. "I wish to speak with this man, now, in my quarters."

The master-at-arms looked puzzled but obeyed. Moments later, I was in the Captain's cabin, very aware that I was dripping water everywhere and desperately trying to keep my teeth from chattering too loudly.

I must have looked a sight and Magellan took pity on me. "Enrique, fetch a blanket or we will never hear what is going on." Enrique complied and when my shivers began to come under control, the Captain General spoke again. "Now Senhor...what was so urgent that you risk drowning and freezing to tell me?"

I looked up. "Mutiny!"

Magellan's eyes went cold and hard. "Cartegena!"

I relied though it was a statement, not a question. "I believe so, Admiral. Last night I saw a longboat depart the _Concepcion_ and her crew boarded the _San Antonio_. A short time later, I heard what sounded like a cry of pain. Other than that, all was silent and the boat returned to the _Concepcion_. I would have warned you then, sir, but I was held captive..."

I was interrupted by someone bursting through the door of the captain's chambers. "Captain, there is trouble!"

Magellan immediately stood up. "Enrique, find this man some dry clothes before he catches his death. Then both of you join me on deck!" With that, he was gone.

I looked at Enrique in surprise, but he was completely unfazed. "I think we are about the same size."

-----

Moments later we rejoined Magellan and Espinosa. They were standing with the young man who had burst into the cabin, listening to a shaken crewman.

The crewman, who I came to know later as Antón de Noya, was speaking hurriedly as we approached. "...as we came alongside the _San Antonio_, a sailor called out to us not to come nearer. We were told Quesada, Cartegena and their men had boarded the _San Antonio_. There was only a light watch on duty and most of the crew was asleep when they came. The deck watch was easily intimidated and no alarm was sounded. We were told Quesada and Cartegena went directly to Mesquita's cabin and burst in with their swords drawn. He was then dragged on deck where the whole crew was being assembled." Antón paused briefly, looking to Magellan. "Cartegena listed their grievances against you, Captain, and asked the men to help him 'restore order to the fleet'. Captain Mesquita, of course, flatly refused. For his defiance he was shackled and placed under guard."

As Antón spoke, it was clear he was considerably distressed. "The ship's master, Juan de Elorriaga, was awakened and rushed onto the deck. Learning that Captain Mesquita had been made captive, he confronted the mutineers. 'I demand in the name of God and the King Charles that you return to your ship!' he said. 'This is not the time to be going among the ships with armed men. I also demand that you release our Captain!' Elorriaga then summoned the mate, Diego Hernández, and ordered him to gather the men, arm them, and free their captain."

Antón hesitated for a moment, almost seeming to fear the words he uttered next. "Quesada was enraged. 'Must we be thwarted by this idiot?' he cried. He then drew his knife and stabbed the master again and again!" _That must have been the source of the cry I heard_, I thought. I shivered, though I was no longer suffering from the cold. "Quesada left him lying on the deck. There was no one in the crew who dared to oppose his fury."

The men around me rumbled with disbelief and rage, but Magellan stood unshaken, the calm eye in the center of a hurricane. The wretched crewman continued his dark tale when the commotion around him subsided. "The mate, Hernández, was taken back to the _Concepcion_ in chains. The mutineers then asked the navigator, Juan Rodriguez de Mafra, to take command but he refused and was shackled below deck. Cartegena was forced to send his skiff for the _Concepcion's_ master, Juan Sebastian del Cano, whose first order was to prepare all the ship's guns to be fired."

Magellan listened solemnly to the sailor's story. "We need to know exactly where we stand." He said, deep in thought. "Cristovão," Magellan turned to the one who had interrupted us in the cabin, "take the skiff to each of the ships and ask to whom they are loyal. Don't take any chances and report back as soon as you can."

"Yes, Captain."

-----

As the sun burned the morning mist away, we watched the skiff row to each ship.

I took a step closer to Magellan and spoke in a low voice. "Captain, I know the _Victoria_ is commanded by a mutineer, but the crew doesn't respect him. They only fear him and his fellow conspirators, Cartegena and Quesada. Given the chance, I believe they would follow you again, sir."

Magellan did not turn, but replied in the same manner. "She does carry the largest number of foreigners. I'm sure they would rather have stayed out of this trouble if they could." The Admiral looked at my ship and thought for a long time. I barely hear heard him when he finally spoke again, as if he was confirming a decision he had come to. "That is where we must strike."

-----

The skiff returned soon after with important news.

Cristovão spoke grimly. "When we approached the _San Antonio_, Quesada answered our hail. When I asked where his loyalties lay, he replied that he owed his loyalty to King Charles. The reply from Mendoza on the Victoria and Cartegena on the _Concepcion_ were much the same. But, Captain Serrano seemed confused by our question and replied that he was loyal to you, Captain."

"I didn't think Serrano would side with these mutineers," Magellan said, deep in thought. "He has been a seaman long enough to not become involved with fleet politics."

"But the Santiago won't be of much help to us," Cristovão put in. "What can we do, Captain?"

Magellan turned away. "We wait."

"But Captain..!" Cristovão started to protest but Magellan silenced him with a commanding glance.

"They clearly have the advantage and we must wait for an opportunity to strike back!" The Admiral sighed and shook his head. "Do nothing, for now." With that, Magellan retired to his quarters, leaving us to wonder what kind of opportunity could save us.

As I thought about this, I heard footsteps behind me and a friendly greeting. "Hello, Mendoza. What are you doing here?" Antonio stepped up beside me.

I sighed. "Antonio, mi amigo, for a spy, you don't know much!"

He gave me a puzzled look in reply.

-----

Later in the day, a longboat from the _San Antonio_ pulled up beside the _Trinidad_ with a message from the mutineers. It listed their grievances, stating both the officers and the men had been mistreated and endured hardships under Magellan's command. To ensure this 'mistreatment' didn't continue, Cartegena, Luis and Quesada had taken control of the _San Antonio_, _Concepcion_ and _Victoria_. It closed saying the captains would acknowledge Magellan's leadership if he would consult them about all matters concerning the voyage and the fleet.

Magellan's reply was simple. "Tell your captains that if they will come to the Trinidad and discuss this properly, I will do what is right. Return to them and tell them this."

-----

It was late in the afternoon when the boat returned to us with the reply to the Captain's offer.

Magellan called Cristovão, Espinosa, a few others and I to his cabin to hear it. "They, of course, refuse to come aboard my ship. They say they fear more 'mistreatment'. They propose we meet aboard the _San Antonio_."

"A trap, of course," Espinosa put in.

"Undoubtedly, but these correspondences have demonstrated that despite their advantage, they fear attacking us."

Cristovão laughed harshly. "The Spanish courts might forgive their mutiny if they only remove you from command, Captain, but they would certainly be executed if they attacked the two ships that sided with you."

"And their indecision," Magellan said with resolve, "gives us a chance to turn the tables on them."

We all looked at the Admiral incredulously, but as we listened, new hope dawned.

-----

I watched from my concealment as the tired, hungry crew of the longboat, still waiting alongside for a reply, was invited aboard for a hot meal and a cup of wine. While they were eating, Magellan had the boat moved out of sight of the other vessels.

Espinosa and one of his soldiers went out in the skiff to hand deliver a message to my uncle Luis. Their two oarsmen had to pull hard against the last of the ebb tide, but finally pulled up along side the Victoria.

I watched nervously as Luis refused to permit them aboard, but Espinosa seemed to say something, probably a taunt, that changed his mind. He didn't even object when the other soldier came aboard with the captain of the guard.

Espinosa handed Luis the letter. As he read, my uncle seemed to begin to smile, as if what the Admiral proposed was preposterous. The smile turned into a laugh as he handed the message back to Espinosa.

It was his last laugh.

Espinosa extended his hand as if to take it, but grasped Luis's hair, pulled back his head and stabbed him in the throat. He slumped to the deck, lifeless.

My uncle was dead.

Despite the time that has passed since I began writing this, I still don't understand my feelings about this. I had more reason than anyone to want Luis de Mendoza dead. He never showed me anything but cruelty. But, I find no joy in his death. Nor do I feel sorrow. I am empty.

-----

As everything happened on the deck of the _Victoria_, Duarte Barbosa and fifteen heavily armed men climbed out of the _San Antonio's_ longboat and up onto the ship. They had rowed under the cover of darkness to attack the Victoria secretly.

As I predicted, the crew didn't oppose them when Barbosa led his men aboard. Espinosa, Barbosa and their men raised Magellan's flag and shouted, "Long live the King and death to traitors.

The _Victoria_ was ours.

That night, when the tide again turned to ebb, her anchors were brought up to short stays and she came along side the _Trinidad_.

Magellan's three ships now blocked the exit to the sea. The _San Antonio_ and _Concepcion_ were trapped.

Despite the dark, the two ships had not failed to notice the _Victoria_ aligning herself with us. Their only hope was to slip past the blockade.

Magellan doubled the watch for the rest of the night and prepared for the battle he expected in the morning.

To our surprise, at dawn we saw the _San Antonio_ drifting helplessly towards us.

Quesada, hoping for a quick getaway, had ordered two of the _San Antonio's_ anchors to be raised, trusting the remaining one to hold the ship. It did not and as the ship came along side the _Trinidad_, Quesada could be seen strutting on the deck. Dressed from head to toe in armor he held a lance and shield, barking orders to crewmen that no longer obeyed him.

Magellan ordered the _Trinidad's_ guns to fire a few rounds of heavy shot into the _San Antonio's_ hull, one of which, we later learned, passed right between the legs of a startled Rodriguez de Mafra. Fortunately, he wasn't hurt.

When the _San Antonio_ was close enough, grappling cables were thrown and an armed boarding party leaped onto her deck. "For whom do you stand!" they shouted.

The weary crew immediately answered, "For King Charles and Magellan!"

Captain Mesquita was released and Quesada and his henchmen were quickly rounded up and put if irons.

Immediately after, the Admiral sent forty armed men in a longboat to the _Concepcion_. The fate of the _Victoria_ and _San Antonio_ had not gone unnoticed. When asked where their loyalties were, the crew responded that they were with Magellan.

The crestfallen Juan de Cartegena was taken back to the _Trinidad_ where he, Quesada, Coca, Cano and their followers were shackled below deck.

The mutiny was over, but the day was not.

-----

Magellan immediately ordered a court martial to be held aboard the Trinidad. I was shocked when my uncle's body was brought aboard and propped up to stand trial with the rest.

Alvaro de Mesquita presided and he wanted revenge. Justice was swift and severe. Forty men were condemned to death. Among them were two ship captains, a shipmaster and most of the fleet's administrative officers.

That very day, my uncle's body was taken ashore, decapitated and quartered.

But Magellan knew he could not execute a fifth of his men, yet an example had to be made. The admiral decided only one would be executed. Gaspar Quesada, the man who had stabbed Juan de Eloriaga.

The sentence was to be carried out on April 7, but even Espinosa didn't want to be the executioner. In the end Luis Molino, Quesada's own squire, carried out the judgment in exchange for his own life.

The whole crew had to witness it. Quesada was beheaded with a sword, as his rank entitled, and his body was quartered. The two dismembered captains' parts were spitted on a pole as a warning against further rebellion.

Cartegena, though convicted of mutiny with the rest, was confined to quarters as Magellan was still reluctant to execute a man who the King had appointed to the fleet. The other mutineers have been forced to do all the hard labor this winter as their punishment.

-----

The same night that the mutiny ended and judgments passed, I lay down to sleep for the first time in two days on the deck of the _Trinidad_.

-----

To my surprise, in the coming days, I was not ordered to return to the _Victoria_ and remained aboard the _Trinidad_. I was confused, but welcomed the company of Antonio and even Enrique. I also spent some time with the fleet's astrologer and astronomer, Andrés de San Martín. I didn't think much of his horoscopes, but his knowledge of the stars and there use in navigation was impressive.

It was only after Quesada's execution that I learned why I was allowed to stay. Returning to the ship after the grim spectacle, I was surprised when Enrique told me Magellan wished to see me in his cabin.

I knocked on his door with some trepidation. A voice called for me to enter and I went inside. Magellan was sitting at a table examining a chart. He looked up as I entered and motioned for me to sit in a chair across from him.

He stared at me for a moment as I shifted uncomfortably in the comfortable seat. "I must admit, Senhor Mendoza, I have had a bit of a dilemma concerning you. You have shown yourself to be a loyal seaman, putting your oath to me before your family."

"Did Antonio tell you that I was related to Captain Mendoza also, Admiral?" I asked, a bit irritated with my friend.

"He didn't have too," Magellan laughed slightly. "It was for that reason I assigned you to the _Victoria_, though I wouldn't have thought you to be my ally." He looked at me questioningly.

"Why _do_ you help me?"

An obvious question, but I wasn't sure of the answer myself. "There was no love lost between me and my uncle. All my life his shadow has followed every action I have taken. Maybe I couldn't allow him to control my destiny any longer. But more importantly, I swore an oath of loyalty to you sir, and perhaps..." I paused, wondering why I spoke so freely, "perhaps you remind me of someone. Someone I lost who meant everything to me," a little shaken, I turned away from Captain General.

Magellan nodded as if he understood this confused answer. "Whatever your motives or reasons, I owe you a debt."

"Captain, I don't want a reward for..."

"And I was not going to give you one," he interrupted. "You have shown yourself to be a capable and intelligent seaman. San Martín has told me you are interested in navigation and that you have a keen mind. I have reassigned you to the _Trinidad_. You will be trained in navigation by me."

I was stunned. This was the last thing I had expected. "Captain, I don't know what to say..."

Magellan held up his hand to silence me. "Say nothing. It is not what you should call a reward, for it is very difficult to master the art of Navigation."

I stood. "I will do everything I can not to disappoint you, sir."

Magellan smiled a bit and patted my shoulder. "You should to well. Antonio Pigafetta tells me that you know how to write."

"Yes, Captain, I can write, but I haven't had much opportunity to do so on this voyage."

Magellan walked to a cabinet as I spoke. When he opened it, I saw a number of leather bound volumes. He pulled one from its place and brought it to me. "A good navigator must be able to record his journey so that others may follow in his footsteps," he told me. "Use this book to practice writing."

"What should I write about, Captain?" I asked.

"Anything you like. A history, a journal like your friend Pigafetta. Just fill the book, Mendoza."

And so I arrive where I began, but this isn't the end. At least half the book remains untouched and this journey is not complete. Will we find the long sought passage to the great western sea? And if we do, what new adventures await us there?

Only time will tell.


	11. Entry 10

**Rio de Santa Cruz. Winter Quarters. October 18, 1520**

The time has finally come. After two months of inactivity, winter has finally turned into spring. Magellan has given orders for the fleet to get under way. Hopefully we will soon discover the long awaited passage to the western sea. From there we set sail to the Spice Islands, hopefully to trade for the valuable goods found only there.

What new adventures will we find? What fate is awaits us?

**Cape Desire. November 21, 1520 **

A month has past. Magellan has been vindicated in his belief in the Paso to the western sea and yet the voyage is still in jeopardy.

For two days after leaving the Rio de Santa Cruz we battled head winds, fighting for every inch we advanced. Finally, the wind shifted to the north and we were able to make progress. The coast we passed was nothing but sand and rock, desolate and depressing.

On October 21, we sighted a cape with white cliffs rising above a strangely indented shore. The Admiral gave it the name Cabo de las Virgenes, in honor of Saint Ursula's day. On the far side, we entered a bay of deep, black water. Surrounded by steep hills, we could see snow clad peaks in the distance. It was completely barren with no sign of people or even plant life. The wind howled through the dark inlet.

All of the crew, including myself, thought it was merely another bay, but Magellan insisted we must explore every possible passage. The _San Antonio_ and _Concepcion_ were ordered to sail as far west into the bay as they could but that they must return in five days to report what they found.

That night the wind became a gale and once again a violent storm whipped the waters around us. So fierce was the tempest that the _Trinidad_ and the _Victoria_ began to drag anchor. No hay buenas estaciones.11 We sailed for open water, missing the rocks of shore by mere inches.

The storm continued for two days and we were constantly fighting to keep from sinking. The lantern never dimmed in Magellan's cabin and at times I caught a glimpse of him pacing, waiting anxiously for the storm to abate. But the Captain was not worried about our safety, but rather for the safety of the two ships in the narrows of the bay with no room to tack and no place to take shelter. Only a miracle could save them from being driven onto the rocky shore.

When the storm finally blew itself out, we all waited for Fate's judgment.

A day passed with no sign of the _San Antonio_ or _Concepcion_. Then another, and another. Few of us retained any hope on the fourth day.

Sitting on the main deck of the _Trinidad_, thoughts of gloom pervaded my mind. Suddenly the man in the crow's nest cried out, "Smoke! Call the Admiral to the deck! There is a pillar of smoke in the distance!"

Magellan was on deck almost before I could stand up. The smoke could only mean one thing...It was over. The _San Antonio_ and _Concepcion_ were lost, and with them Magellan's dream.

"Lower the boats!" The Captain General ordered without emotion. "Find the source of the smoke and save what lives you can."

Hardly had we begun to carry out his orders when the watch out again. "A sail! A sail! God be praised, one ship is saved!" Everyone rushed to the rail and stared out into the bay. "No, both ships! Both the _San Antonio_ and the _Concepcion_ are returning, safe and sound!"

I ran to the upper deck and stood beside Magellan and his companions, peering into the distance, looking for proof of the watch's words. Just as I perceived the faint outlines of the two ships, we saw flashes in quick succession follow by the thunderous rapport of cannon fire.

"Why are they firing?" Antonio asked in confusion. "Don't they have orders not to waste any powder?"

I nodded, not understanding myself why the ships continued to fire salvo after salvo. "Their sails are dressed with flags," I noted.

"And it looks like the crews are cheering and waving," Cristovão added.

"They have found it!" Magellan said softly. We turned to look at him, not comprehending his meaning. "They have found the passage to the western sea!"

-----

We all listened breathlessly as Serrano, now captain of the _Concepcion_, told Magellan their story. "We had sailed deep into the bay when the storm came upon us. Immediately, we shortened the canvas, but were driven farther and farther west until it seemed certain we would be wrecked upon the shore! But at the last moment, we saw a channel. The bay was not closed and the water there was much calmer in that narrow seaway. We entered a second bay followed by a Second Narrows. This widening and narrowing continued again and again. We continued to travel in this remarkable strait for three days without reaching its end and there were no indications that this was another estuary. The water remained salty and the ebb and flow of the tide continued regularly nor did it close steadily as a river would. After each narrows there was always a new bay. Admiral, this canal must lead to the Mar del Sur!"

Magellan lowered his head at his words. "I had almost surrendered to despair," I heard him say softly. "Now, when faith and hope had almost failed, illusion shows itself to be truth and dreams, reality." He faced the crew and spoke the words we had been waiting to hear. "Let there be no more hesitation! Fire one more salvo in honor of King Charles, and let there be one more prayer to the Great Admiral. Leave anchor and prepare to sail to the west! With steady courage, foreword into the labyrinth!"

-----

The fleet sailed into the First Narrows and had traveled no more than a league when something ashore caught our attention. It appeared to be a man made structure, and the Admiral, hoping to find a village, sent a boat ashore. I was anxious to get off the ship for a time and volunteered to go along. Ten of us rowed to the shore but found, not a village as expected, but what appeared to be a burial ground. I watched as my fellow sailors nervously cross themselves. I must admit that after seeing the cold graves and the rotting carcass of a huge whale that had washed ashore in this place, I wasn't opposed to going back aboard.

The fleet continued on passing hills under clouded skies. Everything was silent. Again and again we cast the lead22, but could not reach the bottom of the strait.

Magellan continued my lessons during this time and I learned navigation in one of the most difficult places imaginable. There were shallows to be avoided, rocks to skirt around and squalls frequently came down from the hills, whipping the waters into a frenzy. But Magellan was patient and stubborn, with the sea and me.

-----

We passed through the Second Narrows without incident and came to a place where the passage divided. One way went southeast, the other southwest. The Captain General ordered the _San Antonio_ and _Concepcion_ to the take the first passage while we, in the flagship and the _Victoria_, would take the southwest route. The fleet would reassemble after five days at the mouth of a small river full of sardines where we could replenish some of our supplies.

The ships were about to go their separate ways when unexpectedly, Magellan called for the council of his captains and navigators. This decree surprised everyone, including myself. The last time they had been ordered to meet was to trap the now marooned Cartegena. What could have happened to cause them to meet again?

I managed to corner Enrique shortly before the council began. "What is going on Enrique?" I asked. "Why is the Captain calling the officers together now?"

"He merely wants to discuss the voyage," he answered evasively.

I wasn't about to be satisfied with that answer. "Enrique, you and Magellan know more of my secrets than anyone else in the fleet..."

"It is still not my place to tell you, Mendoza! If you want to know what is going on, ask Magellan to allow you to attend the council. You are his apprentice and have more than proven yourself trustworthy. I believe he would agree."

And so I found myself standing next to Enrique in the Admiral's cabin as the officers assembled around a large table. Captain Mesquita and Captain Barbosa greeted their kinsman warmly. Serrano and Espinosa were cool and competent as ever. Del Cano threw me a nasty look as he sat down and Carvalho smiled ingratiatingly.

When the other officers had been seated, Magellan began, "I have called this council to ask your opinions, gentlemen. Is it wise to press on with our exploration, or would it be better to return to Spain, satisfied with what we've already accomplished." he paused briefly. "To that end, I asked each captain to take an inventory of the supplies stored aboard their ships. Tonight I ask you to report those findings to me." Magellan sat down at the head of the table and looked at each of those assembled. "What have you found?"

"The news is not good, Admiral," Serrano declared.

"The stores recorded in the logbooks and what is actually in our holds do not match," Duarte Barbosa continued.

Captain Mesquita put in angrily, "Someone back in Spain is lining his pockets with the money that should have been used to furnish the fleet's provisions."

"How much is actually left?" Estevão Gomes, the former navigator of the _Trinidad_, asked.

"About half of what there should be," Serrano finished. An outburst of disbelief and anger followed his statement.

The Admiral slapped his hand against the table and the men quickly fell silent. "I feared as much," he stated darkly. "If I had not ordered the rations cut while in winter quarters at San Julian, we would have been forced to turn back already." Magellan again met the eyes of each man present. "The supplies we have will be sufficient for the remainder of our journey to the Spice Islands. Once we find the exit of this strait, these islands lay only a month's journey from us. I believe we must continue! What say you?" All the heads around the table nodded in agreement...save one.

"Senhor Gomes, you disagree?" Magellan queried.

"Aye Captain, I do," Gomes said clearly annoyed. "We have already accomplished much and it would be foolish to continue with so few provisions. What good is finding this passage if we do not live to tell His Majesty of its existence?"

"Coward!" Cristovão interrupted angrily, but Magellan silenced him with a glance.

"I asked for his honest opinion," Magellan said coolly. He then looked to the objector again. "But I lead this fleet and the majority of my officers agree with this decision. We will continue if we have to eat the leather from the yards."

Gomes looked as if he wished to protest more, but held his tongue.

"I don't like the looks of this," Enrique whispered to me. I had to agree.

-----

Just after the meeting adjourned, the Captain General assembled the crew on the main deck. "This council has decided to continue our expedition. The long sought westerly route to the Spice Islands is within our grasp and we will go on!" The crew cheered the announcement and Magellan continued, "As this is All Saints Day, this strait shall be named Todo los Santos.33 May God help us and bring us good fortune!"

-----

We continued on into the southwest passage. Each night we could see fires on the eastern shore. Because of this, the Admiral named that land Tierra del Fuego, the Land of Fire.

This part of the strait was very different from the passage's mouth. Snow capped mountains spanned the horizon though the temperature was mild. Forests and meadows lined the shores and we were able to drink from fresh springs instead of the foul, stinking water we had endured for weeks before.

Magellan decided not to travel any farther and ordered the fleet back to the river of Sardines to resupply and wait for the two other ships. Antonio and I took full advantage of the shore leave and rested gratefully in the sweet smelling grass of a meadow. He was so enraptured with the place he exclaimed, "This must be the best strait in the world!"

But I saw another side of this passage. The weather was notoriously changeable and the battle between the currents of the Atlantic and the Mar del Sur made the sea treacherous. When I voiced my opinion, Antonio declared I had no love of adventure and went off to join others from our ship. I shrugged and remained where I was, enjoying the taste of celery like plants that were growing around me.

It wasn't long after that when I noticed Enrique come ashore with the Admiral and Cristovão. I called his name and he walked over to where I was sitting. "The Admiral decided to come enjoy the land?" I asked.

Enrique laughed. "Even he likes to get off the ship once in a while." Looking at the celery plants I had been eating, he said, "Perhaps we should take some of these aboard the ship. They could be lifesaving if the provisions do run out."

I nodded.

-----

Magellan wouldn't allow the days to pass in complete idleness. In fact, he was very anxious to know if the mountains ahead of us would slow our progress and if the channel continued to the sea.

The day following my disturbing conversation with Enrique, the Admiral decided to send a boat to scout ahead. Several men volunteered as the Captain promised a reward for good news. Among those chosen were Roldán de Argot, a Flemish gunner, Bocacio Almso, an able seaman, and Hernando de Bastamete, a barber.

They set out sailing northwest between an island and what appeared to be a peninsula. They returned in three days. When they reached the end of the island, they turned to the west, but ran into fierce crosscurrents. Unable to go farther, they pulled up for the night in a bay next to a bell shaped hill. Roldán said that the following morning, he decided to climb the hill to get a better view of their surroundings. "From the summit," he continued, "I had a clear view of the place where the strait opens into the sea!"

Everyone cheered at the great news, except the Admiral. Even I didn't expect this to have the effect on the captain that it did. He wept! The soldier and sailor who never betrayed his emotions even once during the voyage wept at the news. His goal had been accomplished! He was justified! His life meant something, and the tears of joy ran down his weather beaten face into his beard.

When he could again speak, Magellan pronounced, "Let this place be named Cape Desire, for it is what we have desired so long!"

But even at this moment of triumph, Fate had a cruel trick to play.

-----

Time passed and the _Concepcion_ and _San Antonio_ did not appear. The fifth day, on which we were to meet, passed with no sign of the other two ships. Magellan decided he could wait no longer and we set out in search of the other vessels.

Two days after leaving out sanctuary, we sighted the _Concepcion_...but she was alone! And Captain Serrano didn't have any idea of what had become of the _San Antonio_. He told the Admiral that the larger ship had outdistanced the _Concepcion_ on the first day after they left us and had not seen her since. "Perhaps she is simply lost or maybe Captain Mesquita didn't understand your orders, Admiral," Serrano concluded.

"Perhaps," Magellan mused, "but we will have to search for her."

And so we did. Marker cairns were raised, each containing instructions in case the _San Antonio_ returned without finding us.

I had a sick feeling that I knew what had happened to the _San Antonio_, but I remained silent.

-----

For days we searched, but to no avail. Magellan even sent the _Victoria_ all the way back to the mouth of the strait, looking for the missing ship, but there was no trace of her.

In confusion, Magellan asked San Martín to cast a horoscope to determine the fate of the _San Antonio_. Even before this, I knew the answer...she had deserted us. San Martín 'divined' the same conclusion.4

Her pilot was Estevão Gomes, the same man who had protested the continuation of the journey and was jealous of Magellan's appointment as Admiral of the fleet. He must have convinced the crew to mutiny and return to Spain. Captain Mesquita would never have gone along so he must have either been taken prisoner...or worse.

Now we were again faced with the question of whether to continue or return home. Everyone could see the Admiral was profoundly disturbed by this development and his disquiet spread to the other officers. He again called for a council to ask their opinion on 'continuing this enterprise' and he ordered them to reply in writing and so provide a record of their decision.

They all agree we should continue.

**Cape Desire. November 22, 1520**

And so here we are about to raise anchor and leave the strait.

The vast, blue water of the Mar del Sur stretches into the unknown before us. Somewhere across this broad ocean are the Spice Islands, Cathay and Cipanghu.44 Our ultimate challenge lies before us.

May we be equal to it.

**1Author's Notes**

 "There are no good seasons here."

2 Casting the lead was done to determine the depth of the ocean.

3 This strait is now known as "The Strait of Magellan."

4 These last two places are the 16th century names of China and Japan.


	12. Entry 11

**Mar del Sur. November 28, 1520**

Magellan has given us several days rest and we are now ready to attempt the crossing of this vast sea. The Admiral believes we will be able to reach the Spice Islands in a month. He plans to sail north along the coast of the continent until we escape the frigid air of the arctic, and then strike out across this vast sea.

We have fired one more round of artillery as a respectful greeting to this unknown ocean and are ready to continue our voyage.

**Mar Pacifica. December 26, 1520**

It seems this ocean had surprises in store for us that no could have imagined. How can I begin to explain what has happened? Magellan calls it a miracle, but I don't know. I look at the child playing on the deck in front of me and I wonder what curious whim of Fate, what strange destiny, has brought him here to me.

-----

After leaving the strait, we sailed north, leaving the stormy waters of the arctic behind us. Or so we thought. But the southern sea wouldn't let us escape without one last show of her true strength.

A week ago, the wind began to rise and the sky once again became threatening. A storm worse than any we had experienced in the entire journey hit us with unimaginable force. For days we struggled to keep the ships afloat, though we usually ended up clinging to the masts and rails.

The 18th of December started the same, dark and foreboding. Our ships were sailing close together, fearing we would lose each other in the wrath of the storm. This region was uncharted to the western world, making the discovery we next encountered all the more mysterious. Suddenly, in the midst of the fury of the storm, someone called out, "Look! Over there! That ship is sinking!"

In disbelief, I struggled foreword to the forecastle and looked out into the vast, churning ocean. There, only a few hundred yards from the _Trinidad_, a strange ship was breaking up in the water. Despite the darkness and the rain, the ship was perfectly visible, its bright colors standing out against the black of the sky and sea. Its shape was something like a galleon or não but, obviously, its construction was hardly adequate. I then saw something that changed my curiosity and bewilderment to a sense of urgency. A man stood on the stern deck, the only part of the strange vessel still above water. He was waving one hand frantically and seemed to be holding something with the other. Then I heard his calls for help...they were in Spanish!

Someone called out, "There's a man aboard her!"

"We should rescue him!"

"How can we! We're having enough trouble keeping ourselves afloat!"

While my shipmates continued to argue about the situation, I decided to take action. A long stretch of rope lay not far from where I stood. Taking hold of it, I tied an end of it to the ship.

"What are you doing, Mendoza!" a familiar voice asked desperately.

I glanced back and saw Antonio and a few others standing just behind me, and smiled, "Going for a quick swim!" I replied. Grabbing the other end of the rope, I moved to the rail and tied it around my waist. Jumping into the ocean was seemed to be becoming a regular activity of mine as of late. Thinking only of my goal, I dove over the side of the _Trinidad_ and into the turbulent sea.

The shock of the frigid water took my breath away. Nearly as icy cold as the morning of the mutiny, but at that time the sea had been calm. I felt as if I was swimming up mountains. The waves were monstrous, towering above me as I toiled on toward the dying ship and its stranded passenger. Finally, I grasped the rail and pulled myself aboard.

I stood face to face with the stranger. I wanted to ask who he was and how he had come to be in this situation. He was obviously European and looked to be about the same age as myself. He didn't say anything either, but I could see the desperation in his eyes. Yet a dawning hope and strength of will shone in them as well. And, for the first time, I could see what he held in his arms...a young child. From the way he protected the boy, this stranger had to be his father.

The stranger extended his arms to me, giving me his son. And I accepted the burden of the child, sensing in him a common destiny with my own.

Holding the boy securely against my body with one arm, I offered my free hand to the strange traveler. I didn't see the immense wave that was about to crash over us as he grasped my hand. A moment later, I felt something cold and massive slam into me. I lost my grip on the stranger and fell back into the sea.

Forced down under the water, I felt the child struggling weakly. I wrapped both arms around him and kicked desperately toward what I hoped was the surface. I broke through, gasping for air, and held the screaming baby above my head. And I saw a disk of gold hung around his neck.

I looked around for the boy's father, hoping he had abandoned his doomed vessel...but there was nothing. No man, no ship, just the raging sea. My shipmates later told me the man had remained on the vessel and disappeared in the storm. I'm not sure why, perhaps it was the strength I saw in his eyes - the will and passion to fight Fate to the end, but I feel somehow he survived the storm.

I was still in the water and holding the child close to me as my companions aboard the _Trinidad_ began hauling on the rope, pulling us back to the safety of the ship.

I took the opportunity to examine the strange golden medallion around the boy's neck. It was a circle with strange etchings on its face and back. Looking closer, I could see the medallion had two parts. One was shaped like a crescent moon and was attached to the cord that circled the boy's neck. The other was a circle and looked like the sun.

Without conscious thought, I took hold of the medallion with both hands and pulled. The circle came free and I held it tightly. It was theft, pure and simple and there is no excuse. And yet, though I know it is wrong, I will not give it back! I am learning to trust my instincts and they tell me this small piece of gold is something of tremendous value.

I finally made it back to my ship and was pulled on board. The constant battle with the cold water and waves had left me exhausted. I dropped to my knees on the deck, still clutching the boy. He was crying from the cold and fright, but I didn't have the strength to do anything for him. By this time, a rather large group had gathered around to see what I had brought back with me yet none offered any help.

Suddenly, a pair of black leather boots stepped into view. I raised myself up onto one knee and met Magellan's gaze. He didn't speak, merely held out his arms to the take the wailing infant from me. I was amazed to the see the stern, serious Captain easily calm the boy. Almost at once, the child was smiling and laughing.

And then something happened that I just could not, cannot, explain. The storm that still rampaged around us suddenly blew itself out. It didn't die down or slowly dissipate. It ended with such suddenness, it took our breath away.

I watched as Magellan walked to the rail of the _Trinidad_ and looked out at the setting sun. He had a strange look of wonder on his face as he held the mysterious child I had saved from the sea.

Shortly after this strange event, the fleet turned away from the New Continent. These last days have been as fair as a sailor could hope for. The wind continues to drive us out across the sea and there have been no more storms.

The day following the rescue, I was once again ordered to appear in Magellan's cabin. Enrique led me in and I saw the Admiral sitting in a chair with the boy laughing happily on the deck in front of him.

I smiled. "He seems to have taken to you, Captain."

Magellan looked up at me. "Ah, Mendoza. You never cease to surprise me!"

I shrugged and replied, "I only did what I felt I must, sir."

He nodded. "I want you to look after this boy. Keep him safe."

"But Captain," I protested, "I don't know anything about children and..."

Magellan raised his hand, silencing my objections. "The boy's father gave him to you, so you must be his guardian. Do not worry. He will stay with me when you are on watch and you will dine each day here in my cabin." At least there was some benefit to this situation. "I know it is a lot to demand when you already have your studies and regular duties, but I feel it is for the best."

"Yes, Captain."

After I finished speaking with the Admiral, I took the boy back on deck with me.

Antonio approached curiously. "So this is the boy you rescued. Do you have any idea what his name is?"

I shook my head. "I didn't have time for conversation."

I had hardly seen Antonio the last few weeks. He is always with the Indian we had brought with us from San Julian. He has been trying to learn his language, with some success, and to convert him to the Faith. I have never met anyone as fascinated with people as him.

"Then what should we call him?" My friend wondered aloud as he watched the boy crawling along the deck.

I sighed. "I don't know if he is even christened. I am just going to call him niño until we return to Spain. Then, perhaps, I can find out who he is and if he has any family."

We watched in silence as the boy played. Despite his wailing at our first encounter, he seemed to be good natured, hardly ever fussing and quick to smile and laugh. As I told the Captain General, I don't know much about children, but I would guess the child's age to be about a year old, more or less. Although it is a constant chore to keep up with him, I find I enjoy my new duties. The niño enjoys watching the strange flying fish that inhabit this ocean, laughing as they soar over the ship.

These fish have proven to be more than a mere distraction as we have found them to be very good to eat. They add a welcome variety to our dwindling provisions. The farther we sail, the more I fear our stores may soon be stinking and our water vile. I am fortunate in that I now share a meal with the Admiral and his few chosen companions. Every night I take the niño to Magellan's cabin where we eat with the Admiral, Cristovão, Antonio and Enrique. The Captain and I talk of navigation and he believes it may be yet another month before we reach the Spice Islands.

"The Admiral certainly has a way with children," I said thinking. "He is usually so stern it is surprising."

Antonio leaned back against the ship's rail with an 'I know something you don't' look on his face. "Not really," he informed me. "Didn't you know that he has a son only a little older than this boy?" he nodded toward the niño. "And his wife is expecting another." I looked at my friend in surprise. Antonio continued smugly, "I've also heard that Cristovão is his son as well."

That would certainly explain a lot. I looked back to Antonio and laughed. "I don't know what to make of you, Antonio. Sometimes I think you are the most inept spy imaginable and then you tell me something that astounds me."

He shrugged and walked over to pick up the wandering child. "You never know with me, Mendoza."

As I finish writing this entry, the sun is setting on another day and we draw closer to our destination. As part of the record he is making of this voyage, Magellan has been making a map of the new places we have discovered. When it comes time to name this vast ocean, the Admiral says he will name it Mar Pacifica, as we have encountered no storms since we found the niño. I can only hope that the sea will remain calm and our journey across it will be easy.

The fleet and its crew have already been through so many trials, I don't know how many more we can bare. And the presence of this child complicates things even more as I am responsible for his care and safety. Who is he? Where did he come from? I must discover the secret of this boy and his strange medallion.

May the worst of the expedition be behind us.


	13. Entry 12

**Mar Pacifica. March 9, 1521**

Does this ocean ever end!

It has been three months since we left the strait and despite the Admiral's belief that the Spice Islands lay only a short distance from the New Continent, we have not found what we seek.

Since we saved the niño, we have sailed west-northwest toward the equator. On January 21, we encountered a head wind that drove us south. When we were able to resume our course, we sighted an island at 15ºS latitude and it was named San Paulo on the charts. It was small and seemed uninhabited. Soundings told us there was no bottom even close to the shore and we could not drop anchor. We might have taken a longboat ashore to explore and look for fresh provisions, but the Captain General didn't believe it was worth the time.

Continuing on our course, we discovered another island at 10ºS. It also appeared unoccupied and had no anchorage although sharks circled us ominously. All of our stores had spoiled and the water had gone sick(1), but again Magellan wouldn't allow us to go ashore as he and the navigators believed we were near our destination. This island was given the name Isla de los Tiburones and we sailed on under clear skies with a steady wind.

We crossed the equator on February 13, 1521 at 160ºW longitude. By this time our stores were nearly depleted and, as if that weren't enough, many in the crew of the three ships began to suffer from a mysterious disease. It causes the gums to swell, bleed and fester. Soon, the teeth of those infected begin to fall out. Sores covered their mouths and they could not eat what little food there was. My old ship, the _Victoria_, has been the hardest struck by this malady.(2) Nine of her crew have died including Roderigo Gallego, the friend who did not give me away when I escaped the _Victoria_ on the night of the mutiny. The _Trinidad_ has not escaped the plague either. Just today our master gunner, Andrew of Bristol, died and was cast into the sea. And before him, the Indian we brought with us from Patagonia, whom Antonio had befriended, perished.

Although those in the Captain's inner circle have shown no signs of the illness, we were forced to eat whatever we could find including rats and biscuit powder infested with maggots. I would not eat during the day, but waited until after dark so I don't have to look at the creatures crawling over my rations. Some have become so desperate that they eat sawdust and even the leather strips, which cover the main yard.

If we had not had such fine weather, we would all surely have perished at sea. Magellan believes that the boy I rescued has something to do with this and takes better care of him than himself. But still I fear for the niño's health. He is yet too young to survive for long without milk. The Admiral knew this and gave the child the best of his personal store of rations. Fruit preserves, a little cheese, anything to help him stay alive until we found land.

On the morning of February 28, I awoke to a strange sight. Magellan stood at the rail of the _Trinidad_ and was carefully tearing apart the charts he had brought from Spain.

"Is it that bad, Captain?" I asked.

He didn't turn to me, but answered as he continued to destroy his maps. "The world is far larger than anyone in Europe imagined. With the crew in such a weakened condition, I don't dare continue on this latitude although I know it would eventually lead us to the Spice Islands. We might encounter Portuguese vessels and we could not survive a battle with them."

Magellan cast the last fragment of parchment into the sea and watched as they disappeared. "Our only chance is to sail north to 13 N and then change course due west. On that route, we should find the island of Cipanghu that Marco Polo was told of in the court of Cathay so long ago."(3)

We persevered, sailing across the Pacific, but had sighted no more islands. By March 1, the situation was desperate. Some of the men would have gladly turned to cannibalism to satisfy their hunger if not for the resolution of the Admiral. All of the water was gone and even the rats had disappeared. If we didn't find land within three days, we would all die.

Few of us believed we would ever see land again...but luck had not abandoned us yet.

The morning of March 6, an unexpected cry was heard from the masthead. "Land ho!" Those of us that had the strength rushed to the rail, excited and yet fearful lest this land should prove to be another barren rock in the Pacific. As the fleet drew closer, we could see there were actually two islands both very large and covered with lush foliage.

And they were populated! A flotilla of small, incredibly swift canoes came out to inspect us. The little vessels were cleverly rigged with lateen sails made of some type of straw. Initially the Admiral named this place the lsla de las Velas Lantinas, but now we have renamed it the Islas de los Ladrones.(4)

We had just anchored in a bay and were about to strike the sails, when a band of the curious natives climbed aboard our ship. Our light-fingered visitors eagerly grabbed up any loose items lying on the deck. This activity, though irritating, would have been excusable, but the nimble thieves made off with the _Trinidad's_ longboat, which had been tied to the stern of our ship. Magellan could not tolerate this robbery. The boat was an irreplaceable and very important piece of equipment in this unknown region.

The Captain General ordered the ships to be cleared of natives, forcibly if necessary and our uninvited guests seemed very offended. Finally, the Admiral ordered the _Trinidad's_ cannon to be fired. The Ladrones quickly scattered, but took the longboat with them.

Night was falling and there was nothing we could do to recover the stolen property that day. But Magellan was resolved to reclaim the boat and to teach the thieves a lesson.

The next day, Magellan chose forty of his healthiest crewmen, armed us, and sent us to repossess the longboat and gather any supplies we could find. Antonio and I were among those chosen but, even had the Admiral not ordered me to take part in the attack, I would have volunteered.

I was aloft in the sails when the visitors first climbed on board, but dropped quickly to the deck when Enrique called to me. He was holding the niño who was wailing at the top of his lungs. "Mendoza," he shouted, "that man took the niño's medallion."

I rushed to the rail in time to see the canoe carrying the thief pull away from the _Trinidad_. I had to get that medallion back.

We landed near a small village of fifty or sixty houses, where the boats the natives had used to board us were pulled up on the beach. We met with little resistance. What few weapons the natives had were woefully inadequate against our firearms and crossbows. Those who did fight us looked in bewilderment at the crossbow bolts, which passed through them completely. Even the most bloodthirsty among the landing party could not help but feel pity at the sight. In all, seven villagers were slain that morning.

I soon located the one who had taken the crescent part of the medallion as he and his people were fleeing into the jungle. My comrades were more interested in looting and burning the village than helping me recover the child's only possession. My target was fast, but my desire to reclaim the medallion lent me wings. As he bolted into a thick grove of trees, I caught hold of the fleet-footed little thief.

Grabbing his shoulder, I threw him against the wall of a hut, my blade at his throat...and...I stopped. To my disbelief, my thief was only a boy! He struggled like a trapped animal against my hold and I could see the terror in his eyes.

I put up my sword, but this didn't alleviate the boy's fear of me. "Quiet! It's alright," I said calmly. "I won't harm you, but I want the medallion you took from the babe aboard our ship."

His response was to continue fighting me. He obviously didn't understand. I sighed in exasperation and reached out with one hand, tearing open the boy's tunic. The crescent medallion glinted gold against his chest. I quickly pulled it up over his head and stepped back. The boy, surprised by my suddenly releasing him, fell forward. He looked at me in astonishment.

"Go on, join your family. I have no desire to harm you."

This, however, the boy did seem to understand and he quickly disappeared into the jungle.

I wasted no time in rejoining my own companions who were busy ransacking the village. We had become the thieves. I must admit, my mouth watered at the sight of the strange fruits and fish. Locating Antonio quickly, we set about the business of searching for food. We filled casks with fresh water from a nearby stream.

Our mission accomplished, we returned to the ship with our spoils.

We have rested off shore of the Islas de los Ladrones for three days. The fresh fruit, meat and water have helped almost all the crews return to health.

After the battle, if it can be called that, we were surprised when the islanders sailed out to meet us again. They made signs for peace and we have traded with them a bit. If we understand each other's signs correctly, and there is no deception on their part, they have told us there are larger islands somewhere to the west of us. Magellan wishes to hurry on and find a more suitable place to continue the crew's recovery.

Where will we find ourselves next? Will we ever reach our goal? How much more trouble can we survive?

**Author's Notes**

1) Mariner's term meaning the water was bad.

2) This malady was, of course, scurvy.

3) These were the European names for Japan and China during this period.

4) The first name was Island of the Lateen Sails; the second is the Island of Thieves. We now call these islands Guam.


	14. Entry 13

**San Lázaro Archipelago. April 5, 1521.**

Salvation at last seems at hand yet we can only hope our luck will hold out.

We sailed south by west for days and on March 16, 1521 at 11 N, we saw mountains rising above the horizon. As we sighted this land on the day of the Feast of Saint Lazarus, the Admiral named it San Lázaro.1 It soon became apparent that there was not just one island, but many. The mountains we had sighted were rimmed with reefs and we sailed on to the west.

We soon sighted other islands and several canoes that fled as we approached. Magellan was not about to take any chances. We could not afford an encounter with natives who could prove hostile so we could only go ashore on an island that was uninhabited. We finally found such an island that had a half moon bay and a sandy beach.

The next day, the Captain General had tents put up on the patch of sand and brought those men that were still ill ashore. Magellan himself went to each of them daily, nursing them and giving each personal attention. The treachery of San Julian was still remembered, but had been forgiven.

Magellan was also anxious to bring the niño ashore and I, of course, went as his guardian. Heaven only knows when the boy was last on land, and he looked about in wonder. Though he could now crawl easily all over the ship, and actually preferred to walk with someone holding his hands, the still land after the roll of the ship made him clumsy. But the good-natured boy laughed, amazed by the unfamiliar scenery.

Two days after our arrival, a small canoe carrying nine natives came along side the _Trinidad_. Magellan ordered everyone to remain still and not to speak without his permission. But the natives' manner was so friendly that he was soon put at ease and they were invited aboard our ship. A few came aboard while the others went to fetch companions who were fishing nearby.

When all were gathered together, the Admiral gave them red cloth and various trinkets indicating that he wished to trade for food. Our visitors gladly traded what they had in their piroque2 and the food they gave us was strange, but proved to be very good. They included a jug of some kind of wine, fish a strange fruit, and what appeared to be a large nut. The fruit was long and yellow and the other was a large, round with a brown fibrous outer covering. The natives promised to return in four days with more.

Shortly after this, Magellan asked San Martín to go ashore and determine our longitude. His response was not good, but also not unexpected. The astronomer fixed our location at 189º west of the Tordisillas Treaty line. We had passed into the Portuguese hemisphere and proved, to our dismay, the Spice Islands lay in their territory, not ours.

"Despite this devastating news," Magellan told us, "All is not lost. The treaty stipulates that any new lands discovered by explorers for either country can be claimed even if they lay in the other's hemisphere. And these islands we have stumbled across are certainly a new discovery. If we can establish a trading post among these islands and make alliances with the local people, this land will be ours. It is imperative to establish a friendly relationship with the people of this archipelago."

On Friday, March 22, we saw the canoes of our previous visitors and this time they brought their chief with them. He told us that his name was Humunu. Unlike his people, the chief wore fine cotton shirts embroidered with silk. Using signs, the chief told us of other islands not far from this one. In all, we spent a little over a week at this small island during which time the sick were tended and most of them were returned to health.

As we made ready to sail to Humunu's island, I was kept busy with these preparations. Antonio, with his position as a supernumerary, had little to do while we bustled about. He had taken to fishing from the bulwarks and this practice nearly cost him his life. He made the mistake of stepping on a wet spare, slipped and fell into the sea. Despite my many offers to teach him, my Italian friend does not know how to swim. He would certainly have drowned had he not managed to catch hold of the main sheet, which was trailing in the water. None of us had noticed his disappearance being to busy readying the ships and Antonio clung to the sheet while calling for help at the top of his lungs. Several of us went to his aide and hauled him back on board, joking about the size of the fish we were reeling in.

On March 25 we got underway again. We passed several more islands, which confirmed our notion that San Lázaro was an archipelago. We hove to off the promontory of a small island on the 28th of March. There we witnessed an extraordinary reunion.

Like the visitors we had before, the people of this island were friendly and inquisitive. The Admiral was anxious to befriend them and felt they would trust Enrique more than we white skinned Europeans. He went ashore with me and a few others as his escorts. Almost immediately a chattering throng of people surrounded us.

Enrique was curiously silent and when I looked in his direction, he seemed transfixed with emotion. Touching his shoulder, I asked, "What is it, Enrique?"

He glanced at me, his expression becoming one of utter joy. "I can understand them!"

"What?"

"They speak the language I knew before I was taken as a slave to Malacca. I've come home!"

How our fortunes had changed from a year ago! In three days it will be Easter Sunday, the anniversary of the mutiny. Then we had to defend our lives against treachery at San Julian and now we rest in peace and comfort among these generous people.

Shortly after Enrique's surprising homecoming, a message arrived from the chief of these islanders, King Calambu, inviting us to a feast. By this time, Antonio was fully recovered from his near death experience and immediately wished to go so he could study the habits of these people. Magellan would not allow him to go alone and I was compelled to join him in his adventure.

Rajah Calambu received us with great ceremony. Enrique, being busy with his regular duties and with the niño, whom I had left in his care, had not accompanied us and we used signs to converse with our hosts. Among the dishes that were placed before us was one of pork boiling in some kind of sauce.

Antonio and I looked at each other. "That truly smells delicious," I said, famished.

Antonio nodded but replied, "But we really shouldn't eat any though. It is Good Friday."

I nodded and we continued to stare at the food, our mouths watering. The Rajah made some signs for us to eat and I looked to my friend again. "They might be insulted if we continue to refuse to eat."

"And the Captain did order us to remain on friendly terms with them," he eagerly agreed. We enthusiastically set about eating the meat, washing it down with generous amounts of palm wine. Sinful though it was, I have rarely tasted so fine a meal.

We had hardly finished this meal, when the King invited us to a second banquet inside his own hut. We accepted. We sat cross-legged on a cane mat and this time devoured roasted fish with freshly grated ginger accompanied by more palm wine.

As we finished this banquet, a young man entered the hut. By their signs, we deduced he was the King's eldest son who had come to greet us. Once again, food was placed before us. Though already full, we were compelled for politeness' sake to eat the fish and rice. The palm wine was running through our veins and we fell asleep on the mat in the King's hut.

The following day, the fleet set about trading in earnest and our hosts were happy to oblige. Calambu was particularly pleased when Magellan presented him with a Turkish robe of red and yellow and a red cape.

The Admiral also made a display of our strength. One of our men was dressed in full armor and the natives were asked to shoot their arrows at him. They gaped in astonishment when their shots bounced harmlessly off the suit of steel and our soldier laughed at their efforts.

On Easter Sunday an altar was brought ashore with a golden cross that glittered in the rays of the sun. Then the Admiral and fifty of our men came two by two and knelt before the Cross while cannons were fired aboard our ships.

The natives reverently followed their movements and kneeled to kiss the Cross as well. The Admiral told them his carpenters would make them a Cross-which would be placed on the summit of their highest mountain so all could see and adore it. In these three short days the Rajah of this island had not only become our ally, but also a Christian brother.

After a week, Magellan has once again become anxious to move on. He has asked Calambu which of these islands is the largest and has been told it is Cebu. The Admiral has asked for a guide to take us to Cebu and the Rajah has offered to guide us there.

Magellan knows that it is of the utmost importance to make an alliance with the most powerful of the native kings and so establish our rights in this archipelago. I wonder what awaits us at Cebu?

**Author's Notes**

1) These islands are now called the Philippines.

2) A canoe native to the area of the Philippines.


	15. Entry 14

**Island of Cebu. San Lázaro Archipelago. April 26, 1521.**

Why do I feel as though death is stalking us? It is as though a shadow is just waiting to consume us. We have not found what we seek, but also have succeeded beyond what we could have hoped... and yet I cannot shake this feeling of dread.

With Colambu's canoe leading the way, we set out for the island of Cebu. Reaching the open sea, we set the sails and a fresh breeze propelled us far ahead of our escort. We hove-to off a group of islands to allow them to catch up and they were amazed at the speed at which we sailed.

Soon after we saw the mountains of Cebu rising in the distance and entered a narrow channel between the island that was our destination and a neighboring one called Mactan by our guides. As we continued through the waterway, we began to see many houses, most of them built on stilts, near the shore. This island was obviously densely populated.

With banners and pennants flying high, the fleet dropped anchor in the busy port of Cebu on April 7, 1521. The port was impressive. Ships from distant lands filled the harbor and brought trade goods from the Orient.

The Admiral decided to make an impression on the natives and ordered the gunners to fire a salute using all of our cannons. It certainly did! Most of the villagers fled into the hills. Magellan then ordered Enrique and Cristovão to go ashore and reassure the locals of our friendly intentions. They told us later that they had found the island's ruler, Rajah Humabon, and his retainers crowded together in fear of the thunder of our artillery.

Enrique quickly reassured them that the cannons had only been fired as a salute. "It is these Spaniards custom to honor the rulers and people they visit thus. It is a sign of peace."

Humabon was greatly relieved to hear that his island was not under attack and asked, "What brings your chief to Cebu?"

"My master," Enrique answered, "a captain of the greatest king in the world, heard good things of Your Majesty and decided to visit. He brings greetings and an offer of friendship from his royal master. He wishes to purchase fresh supplies for his ships and to trade goods the like of which you have never seen in your part of the world before."

"It is our custom," the Rajah replied boldly, "that all visiting ships must pay a tariff when they enter our harbor. Only four days ago a Siamese junk came to trade and they willingly paid the tribute."

Enrique translated the Rajah's words for Cristovão. "To pay this tariff would mean that Magellan acknowledges this man as his superior," he finished.

The Captain General's son replied haughtily, "Tell him our Captain serves such a powerful king that he will not pay any tribute. Tell the Rajah we have come with a message of peace, but if war is what he wishes, war is what he will have!"

Humabon was about to insist that the tariff must be paid when a Muslim merchant, who had arrived aboard the Siamese junk, leaned toward the rajah and said softly, "It might be wise to take care, Your Majesty. Forget the tariff! These men are Franks (by this he meant Portuguese) who conquered Calicutt and Malacca. The chaos created by their coming has disrupted the ancient trade routes from India to the sea of Cathay."

Enrique interrupted the Moor before he continue any further, "Your Majesty, my master serves the Spanish king, Emperor of all Christians, who is even more powerful then even the Portuguese monarch."

"What he says is true, Rajah Humabon," the Muslim trader confirmed.

The native king regarded his guests carefully before speaking again. "I will give you my answer tomorrow. For now please be my guests for a banquet."

The two diplomats were then treated to a five-course meal served on porcelain from Cathay before finally returning to the ships. They told us of all that occurred and Colambu decided to go ashore to speak to his ally, Rajah Humabon.

The following day, Enrique again went ashore, this time with the fleet's notary, Léon de Ezpeleta. The Rajah greeted them in the town square and announced that he not only waved the tariff, but also offered to pay tribute to our King.

"That will not be necessary, Your Majesty," Enrique replied soothingly. "My master only wishes to trade among these islands and hopes to make Cebu the center of our activities."

The Rajah was greatly eased in his mind and suggested, "If your master wishes to insure our continued friendship, perhaps he and I should become blood brothers."

On the 9th of April, Colambu returned to the _Trinidad_ and brought with him the Moor from Siam with a message from Rajah Humabon. "While his people gather the supplies you have requested, the Rajah's son-in-law, heir to the throne of Cebu, and his ministers want to come to your ship to arrange a peace treaty."

Magellan received these emissaries with ceremony. The Admiral, the young prince, and Colambu were seated in chair covered with red velvet while the prince's ministers were seated on leather chairs. The rest of the delegation sat around them on reed mats. I was holding the niño as I watched the proceedings from main deck with the rest of the _Trinidad's_ crew.

Magellan asked the prince through Enrique, "Do you conduct treaty negotiations in public and, if so, are you authorized to negotiate in Rajah Humabon's name?" When the prince replied that he was, the Admiral dropped to his knees and prayed the alliance would be pleasing to God in Heaven.

The prince seemed touched by the words Magellan spoke and told Enrique they were pleasing to him. "Would you leave some men among us when you depart to teach us of your Faith?" he requested.

Magellan replied, "I regret that I cannot spare even one man from my fleet, but those among you who truly wish to become Christians may be baptized by our chaplain. But do not be baptized because of fear, the desire to please us, or personal gain."

The princes responded, "My companions and I wish to be baptized. And I am sure his Majesty, Rajah Humabon, will certainly sign our peace treaty."

Magellan was overcome by their willingness and wept openly, embracing each of them. He then took the hands of the prince and said solemnly, "By my faith in God, my loyalty to my sovereign, and by the crusader's habit I wear, I swear that there will be peace between the Kings of Spain and Cebu."

Before they left, the delegation presented the Captain General with several large baskets of rice and several pigs, goats, and chickens. They said that such poor gifts were unworthy of such a great person as the captain. In return, the Admiral presented the prince with a bolt of fine cloth and a cup made of glass. He then called for Antonio. "I want you to go ashore and present Humabon with these gifts," he waved his hand at a bundle of nearby goods.

Antonio was ecstatic and convinced me to join his expedition. Leaving the niño with Enrique, we went in search of the Rajah. We found him in his palace, seated on a mat and we couldn't help but be surprised by his appearance. He was short, fat, tattooed, and naked except for a cotton loincloth. He rested on a mat eating turtle eggs and sipping palm wine threw a slender reed. After our presentation, we were invited to the home of the prince where we enjoyed music, refreshments, and the dancing of pretty native girls.

When we finally returned to the _Trinidad_, Antonio summed up our activities for the Admiral saying, "We were well received."

The next morning, Magellan sent another delegation ashore to ask permission to bury two seamen who, weakened by the mysterious illness, had died. Rajah Humabon consented and provided a place at the center of town.

The following morning, the solemn service was conducted. The town's people gathered around to watch the funeral and it left a deep impression on them. It wasn't but a few days later that Rajah Humabon declared his wish to be baptized.

The same day as the funeral, we set up a factoría1 in a building provided by the Rajah, who promised protection for our enterprise and the four men who ran it.

The store officially opened on April 12, 1521. Of the trade goods we offered, items made of iron or bronze were extremely popular and the town's people gladly traded gold to obtain them. Even I was able to trade an old belt buckle and a few other trifles for a nugget of gold worth at least half a ducat.2 After a day, the Admiral was forced to forbid the crews to trade for gold as they would have ruined any hopes of future trading with their greed. Most would gladly have bartered away everything they owned for the precious metal.

Two days later the Rajah was baptized.

A large platform was erected in the town square and decorated with tapestries and palms. Antonio, the niño and I came ashore early to find a good place to watch the proceedings from. As we settled in, forty armed men, two of them in full, polished armor, brought the royal standard ashore. As their boat touched the beach, the ships gunmen fired a deafening salute, startling the huge crowd that had gathered.

The Rajah greeted Magellan at the waterfront and warmly embraced him. When they reached the square, the Admiral announced, "All of you who wish to become Christians must burn the idols in your houses and replace them with crosses. You must also come to this plaza everyday with your hands clasped in prayer." He then showed them how to kneel reverently, making the sign of the cross.

By the time the sun set on that Sunday, some 800 men, women and children, including the Rajah, his Queen and daughter, had been baptized. This fervor has continued, spurred on by the Rajah's conversion and another remarkable event.

The young prince's older brother was afflicted with an illness and was near death. His illness had left him too weak to present himself for baptism. The Admiral learned that the women who had been attending him had been making offering to their idols, desperately asking for a cure.

"I promise you, if you will burn your idols and will be baptized," Magellan told the patient, "the power of Jesus Christ will heal you."

Later, the Admiral learned that the invalid had agreed to be baptized. The man, his wife and his ten daughters were all sprinkled with the water of baptism. Within days of the conversion, the prince's brother was well again and walking.

Within the week, almost all the chiefs of the neighboring islands had swore allegiance with Spain and been baptized.

But while the Captain General was preoccupied with these religious matters, most of the crew and some of the officers were at their usual tricks with the local women. Cebu was proving to be an even more liberal port than Guanabara Bay.

Duarte Barbosa, the captain of the Victoria, once again deserted his ship in favor of the pleasures ashore. Though the Admiral and the chaplain were busy with the baptisms, the truth of the crews' actions could not be kept a secret for long. Magellan was furious when he was informed of Barbosa's antics and immediately removed him from command and named Cristovão the new Captain of the Victoria.

My time ashore has not been without surprises either. The day of the Rajah's baptism, Antonio and I walked back to the boats, talking over the strange events of the day. To my amazement, people kept giving me gifts of fruits and small trinkets, gesturing that they were for the niño. I asked Antonio, who has been taking language lessons from Enrique, what they were doing.

Antonio asked as best he could and listened carefully to their reply. "I can't be sure, but I think it has something to do with the niño's medallion and a legend these people have. Something about a place called "Mu" or like that."

"Perhaps the boy's father came from this Mu," I said with interest. "Can you learn any more about this place?"

Antonio shook his head. "Sorry, that is all I can understand. I'm still not very good with their language. You will have to ask Enrique."

I would have done as my friend suggested, but events have taken a turn that has prevented it. It looks like we may have to fight among these islands after all.

The Admiral is determined to make his ally, the Rajah, the ruler of all of these islands. That same day, the one when Humabon was baptized, Magellan asked if any of the other chiefs were giving him difficulties. Though he was reluctant to speak of it, Humabon told him of an old adversary, Rajah Silapulapu of the tiny island of Mactan, had been causing trouble since our arrival. He refused to help gather the supplies we needed to continue our voyage and sought to convince the other chieftains to follow his example.

This defiance prompted the Admiral to call a meeting to discuss what we should do in response. The usual group was assembled in the Captain's cabin where we listened to his plans. "These chieftains need to learn that it is better to support us than to oppose us. I sent Enrique and that Siamese trader to this Silapulapu, but their words have done nothing. So we must use more convincing tactics," the Captain concluded looking around the table where we all sat, silently considering his words. "What say you?"

Cristovão finally spoke. "Rajah Humabon does not support this plan, does he Admiral?"

"No," Magellan admitted reluctantly. "Likely he fears that they will only rise against him again once we sail on."

Serrano spoke next, carefully choosing his words. "Admiral, it may not be in our best interests to pursue a needless military action."

"I am not seeking to destroy these people, Captain Serrano," Magellan replied coolly. "And this will not be a serious campaign. But I believe it is imperative to our future interests among these islands to ensure our ally's, Rajah Humabon, authority over the other rajahs and chieftains." The Admiral paused for a moment before continuing more gently, "I do not desire bloodshed, but we must maintain our position by this act of war. Sixty of our men should be enough to accomplish this mission and I will lead them."

We gaped in astonishment at these words. Serrano spoke up quickly, trying to dissuade Magellan. "Admiral, please reconsider this course of action! The ships are in poor condition and too lightly manned to spare even sixty." Magellan turned away. "At least, Captain," Serrano continued desperately, "let me lead the attack. You must not expose yourself to this danger!"

But the Admiral refused to listen.

The others finally filed out of the Captain's cabin, but I paused at the door and turned back to Magellan. "Captain, a word?"

"What is it Mendoza?" he asked tiredly.

"Sir," I said bluntly, "we have both been soldiers in our time and you know this plan is not wise. We do not know the terrain and from what Humabon and Enrique have told us, Silapulapu's village is well defended by trenches and wooden stakes." I paused as I looked at the Admiral's impassive face. "At least, Captain, allow Humabon's warrior to join us in this battle. With their aid we will certainly..."

"No," Magellan interrupted quietly. "You are wrong, Mendoza. To take so many men would cause a slaughter and would tell the peoples of these islands that we could not put down Silapulapu without help. No we must prove the superiority of our arms and armor to maintain peace in the future." Magellan looked at me kindly. "You need not take part in the battle, Mendoza. You have other duties," he said looking at the niño playing on the floor.

"Do not send me from your side, Captain," I said quietly. "Others can take care of the boy! I will stay by your side no matter what our fate!"

As I finish writing this, I am aboard the _Trinidad_. The niño is sleeping peacefully in my bunk, but I cannot rest. Tomorrow we attack Mactan. Already some are afraid, especially those who believe in omens and signs. As we left Cebu, all the dogs in town began to howl mournfully and someone pointed out a strange black bird, like a raven which was unknown to the natives, was perched in a tree and staring at our procession. The natives murmured anxiously and the Europeans quickly crossed themselves.

These were portents of doom but Magellan does not believe in such things. He won't be dissuaded from this venture, no matter the cost. Tomorrow will decide our fate among these islands. And I have a very bad feeling about this.

1 A trading post

2 1 ducat was worth about $400 US dollars. The people of Cebu were so fond of iron that they would trade 10 gold pieces, each worth about a ducat and a half or $600, for 14 pounds of iron. Quite the exchange rate!


	16. Entry 15

**Island of Cebu. San Lázaro Archipelago. April 28, 1521.**

I can hardly bear to put pen to paper, but I feel I must write what has occurred in spite my grief. How could this have happened? And yet I knew the battle at Mactan was ill fated.

We sailed northwest through the channel between the islands of Cebu and Mactan and entered the bay near Silapulapu's village before dawn. But, strangely, the Admiral had failed to consider the tide. It was low, exposing a reef that extended a thousand yards seaward of the beach.

Seeing the obstacles that lay ahead, Rajah Humabon once again asked Magellan to reconsider. "I ask you again to allow my one thousand warriors to lead the attack as they are familiar with Silapulapu's defenses. Your men can be held in reserve; ready to join us when and where such support would be needed. Such strength would give my warriors great courage. Our victory would be assured."

"No! I forbid it!" Magellan replied angrily. "Keep your men in their canoes and off shore. We will show them how men of Spain fight!"

His words were final. We would have no assistance from Humabon's warriors. This fight would be ours alone.

At first light, the longboats moved as close to the shore as possible without risking being grounded on the coral. Most of us had armor, but we were forced to dispense with our leg guards. I, myself, wore a steel breastplate and a helmet. It almost felt like I was back in Cuba in the King's army. But this was another time and another commander.

The Admiral was the first to leap into the water followed closely by forty-eight handpicked men, his most loyal followers. We left the boat crews and the swivel guns behind as we waded the distance of two crossbow flights to the beach. I stayed close to the Admiral's left side with Antonio close behind me, while Cristovão and Enrique took their positions on Magellan's right.

To our great surprise, our landing on the beach was unopposed. "This is strange," Captain Cristovão growled. "Why do they not fight us here were the ground would be to their advantage?"

"Perhaps they thought better of fighting us," someone commented lightly. Enrique shook his head in disagreement, but said nothing.

"This could work to our advantage," the Admiral said thoughtfully. "If we can destroy their village, this battle and these islands will be ours. Move out!"

During the march to the village, a feeling of disquiet was growing in my mind. Silapulapu had seemed so determined and his threats sincere. The farther inland we traveled, the more sure I became that we were walking into a trap.

The village was deserted. Not even a dog roamed the streets as our torches lit flames in the palm huts. Hardly had we begun when a voice called out, "Beware, danger!"

Looking around quickly, I could see we were being attacked on each flank by two battalions of native warriors.

"Form up!" Magellan called out.

Quickly we were formed into two groups to counterattack, but the numbers and ferocity of the attacking natives forced us to regroup into one unit to maintain some defense. Time stretched on.

For hours the roar of the arquebuses and the twang of the crossbow resounded in our ears and kept our enemies at a respectful distance. But we couldn't keep this up forever. The powder and shot ran out at almost the same time as the crossbows began to fall silent. Our adversaries began to close in on us, hurling lances and firing poisoned arrows.

"Things are growing desperate," I heard the Admiral growl. "Men!" he shouted. "Begin to withdraw to the boats!" An involuntary gasp went up at the words. Retreat! We were being forced to retreat! At these words, many of the men broke ranks, running desperately back to the boats. "Keep in formation!" Magellan shouted as he limped back the way we had come. "More will be killed if you run headlong for the beach!" But few listened to our Captain General.

Our enemies, aware of their immanent victory, redoubled their efforts. They also realized that our legs were our one real vulnerable point and took careful aim at our retreating companions. In mere moments, only a small group remained with the lame Admiral. Myself, Antonio, Enrique, Cristovão, and a few others fought along side Magellan as we carefully retreated to the boats. The hail of spears and arrows continued while a brave few ran forward to meet our swords. We were hopelessly outnumbered! Eight against a thousand!

I silently cursed our retreating comrades as well as those out beyond the reef. _Can they not see what is happening!_ I thought furiously. _The Admiral's orders be damned! We need reinforcements!_ As if in answer to these thoughts, we heard the thunder of a cannon and my gaze shifted to our ships. To my horror I saw the cannon ball's destruction fall, not on our enemies, but among Humabon's canoes! _What have they done!_ I watched the warriors of Cebu, who might still have helped us bring about a victory, paddle swiftly away.

Though I did not know it at that time, a drama had been unfolding out beyond the reef. Rajah Calambu had been desperately traveling between each of our ships, begging them to allow the warriors to help Magellan, but each commander refused. Magellan's allies were almost all fighting ashore and though I can somewhat understand what motivated Barbosa, still angry about his demotion, I cannot fathom why Serrano did not come to our aid. Why did he abandon his Captain? My old _friend _Carvalho, the navigator, took this treachery one step further as Calambu decided to take matter into his own hands. The rajah had ordered his men to aid us when Carvalho fired the cannon...right into their midst! It had the desired affect. We were on our own.

Though we fought desperately, the small number of men fighting along side our valiant Captain began to dwindle as one by one our comrades began to fall before the onslaught. _We will die._ I am still surprised how calmly I thought these words as my body continued to parry the lunges of my opponents. _We are all going to die on this beach. I hope San Martín will take good care of the niño._

We continued to inch our way to the salvation of the sea. Only five of us remained. Antonio and I fought side by side, each guarding the other's back. Enrique and Cristovão fought on with Magellan. Despite his lame foot, the Captain fought valiantly beside his real son and the slave whom he had adopted as his son. These moments will forever be etched in my memory...but it could not last.

I wish that I could write that we fought so brilliantly that our foes, awed by our strength, hesitated to continue their assault. That my remaining companions, my friends, safely waded to the waiting longboats where we rallied our forces to defeat the natives of Mactan. I wish with all my heart that I could write this and have it be true. But it is not so.

Weary from constant battle, one by one we were wounded by the vicious blows of the opposing warriors. Our helmets had been knocked from our heads several times by the hail of weapons thrown by our foes and we were forced to quickly bend to retrieve them. Blood streamed down Antonio's face from a gash on his forehead and my breastplate hung by a single strap as the other had been severed by a slash that also cut the flesh beneath the leather. Enrique also bled and Magellan's right foot had been pierced by an arrow, making our progress became even slower. It was maddening! The water was so close but the Captain would never reach the sea if we broke and ran.

These thoughts were interrupted by a cry I will remember to my death. "Cristovão!" Magellan's voice. I hardly recognized it, so filled with rage and grief. I turned in time to see the young captain fall onto the sand. We watched in horror as Enrique dropped beside him, trying to help his friend. But it was too late. A poisoned arrow had struck Cristovão in the throat and his blood stained the ground red. Magellan stood as one turned to stone, staring down at the body of his son. With a cry of despair, he threw himself forward at the enemy.

"Captain!" I heard myself yell desperately as my two remaining companions and I leapt to his defense. But the Admiral fought like one possessed and, though wounded and lame, we three could not catch him. "Captain no!"

He was surrounded by the enemy warriors, bombarded by their stones and lances. As we watched helplessly, his helmet was knocked from his head and he could not retrieve it. "Go on!" he called despairingly. "Save yourselves!"

"No!" I continued to struggle towards him.

"Mendoza!" I threw off Antonio's grasping hands but it was a weak effort. "Mendoza!" He spun me around and struck me hard. His face was resolute though his eyes were filling with tears. "Obey his last command, Mendoza!"

"We have to save him," I turned to Enrique for support, but he stood beside Antonio.

His whole body trembled as he also began to pull me away. "It is too late, Mendoza," he said, choking on the words. "Let him die knowing we are safe!"

All the attention of our enemies was focused on Magellan, realizing he was our leader. Antonio and Enrique were right. We could remain with him and die, or flee and live. With a cry of anguish I turned with them and continued on to the boats.

Magellan continued to fight bravely, but his adversaries were great in number. From the safety of the boats we watched helplessly as a Mactan warrior slashed the Admiral's leg and he fell helplessly to the ground. It was over quickly.

I felt hot tears running down my face as the oarsmen pulled for the _Trinidad_. Enrique had collapsed into the bottom of the boat, unable to look at the grisly scene. Antonio's eyes were fixed on the same place as my own and he whispered softly, "They have slain our mirror, our light, our comfort, our one true guide."

Barbosa met us on the deck of the Trinidad. "Magellan?"

Antonio was the only one who could face him. "Slain!" The crew murmured in shock and disbelief.

"We must retrieve his body," I heard myself insist.

Barbosa shook his head. "That is impossible."

"But sir, if we rally our forces we can still..."

"Enough, Señor!" Barbosa cut me off, his eyes cold. "We will not go back!"

Antonio stared in disbelief. "But we cannot retreat like cowards leaving the Captain's body in their hands!"

"Not another word!" The former Captain's eyes blazed with fury. "Prepare to sail back to Cebu!" The crew stood dumbfounded, unsure of what to do. "Prepare to sail!" The seamen reluctantly moved to carry out his command and the _Concepcion_ and _Victoria_ were likewise employed. But I could not move. I remained where I was, on my knees on the main deck.

Two days have passed since the battle and we have returned to Cebu as Duarte Barbosa ordered. He has also informed Humabon of Magellan's death. The Rajah wept openly at the news and indeed most of the crews have been overcome with grief. But the positions left vacant by the deaths of Magellan and Cristovão had to be filled.

Duarte Barbosa was elected captain of the flagship, but no one trusts him with the sole leadership of the fleet and Captain Serrano is his co-commander. As for the _Victoria_, a Portuguese supernumerary named Luis Alfonso de Goes was appointed her Captain. Despite the circumstances, I could not help but be pleased when, once again, Carvalho and del Cano were overlooked for the positions they so desperately wanted.

The new captains sent a delegation to Mactan to _buy_ the Captain General's remains. It was pathetic. Mere days ago we were lords of these islands and now, like cowards, we are reduced to offering to buy back the body of our commander. Of course, Silapulapu refused to part with his_ trophy _and his fame as the destroyer of the White Lords of Thunder and Lightning is spreading across the whole archipelago.

The new captains have also closed the factoría and have asked for a guide to lead us from Cebu. It seems they now wish to continue on to the Spice Islands. Lo, how the mighty have fallen!

I fear for Enrique. He has not left his bunk since returning from the battle. When we leave these islands, what will become of him? And what of the niño? Without the Admiral's support and protection, how will I care for him?

I can see only darkness in the days ahead...


	17. Entry 16

**San Lázaro Archipelago. May 2, 1521.**

Tragedy has been our constant companion. Who could have foreseen this! And yet the signs were there had I only seen them in time.

Since Magellan's death, all has gone badly for us. All good will remaining for us was destroyed when it became clear we were abandoning Cebu. Enrique was despondent over the death of the Admiral and brooded aboard the Trinidad, nursing his wound.

The day after the battle, Barbosa sought him out in his bunk. "So here you are, you lazy slug! I need you to go ashore and recruit some natives to guide us." Enrique didn't respond. "Are you deaf, boy!" the new Admiral of the fleet demanded angrily. "I have given you an order!"

At this Enrique finally stirred. "Senhor, I cannot go ashore. My wounds are too painful."

"You will do as you have been ordered, slave!"

Enrique glared at him. "I am no longer a slave, _Captain_!" he replied angrily. "Before we left Seville, Magellan showed me his will and told me if he died, I would be free. So as a free man, I respectfully decline to go ashore."

Barbosa was furious. Trembling with rage, he spoke again, "I swear as the brother of Magellan's wife, I will make certain you are never freed. You will remain a slave for the rest of your life! Now, get out of that bunk before I have you flogged!"

Eyes burning with hate, Enrique finally got up and went ashore to negotiate with Rajah Humabon. It would have been better for all of us had he not.

Yesterday, Enrique finally returned to the Trinidad. He announced to the new Admirals that the Rajah had extended an invitation to the captains, officers and the other ranking men of the fleet to come ashore. The Rajah had prepared a banquet to present our leaders with fine jewels for our King.

"Of course we shall all go!" Admiral Barbosa replied eagerly undoubtedly already seeing the riches he would be entrusted with.

Admiral Serrano, on the other hand, advised caution. "Is not strange to be having a celebration three days after a disastrous defeat?" he asked hesitantly.

"What is wrong, Serrano?" Duarte Barbosa mocked. "It isn't like you to be a coward!"

Serrano was visibly stung by the retort and quickly ordered the longboat readied. When they departed, he was the first one to board it.

While the preparations were being made, Enrique walked over to where I was sitting with the niño, who was doing his best to stand despite the roll of the deck. "Will you and Antonio be coming to the celebration," Enrique asked, his voice tight.

I looked at him. "I don't think so," I replied. "Antonio's face is swollen from the poison arrow that grazed his forehead and is in no mood to go ashore. Nor am I," I added, gingerly touching my own injured shoulder.

Strangely, Enrique seemed relieved by this response. "That is probably for the best." One of the others called to him, saying that the boat was ready to depart. Enrique was about to leave but hesitated. "Your friendship has meant a lot to me, Mendoza. Take care of yourself and the niño."

I looked at him, startled by his words and didn't reply. He had gone by the time I had gathered my wits and realized he had spoken as if he would never see us again. Why didn't I realize what was about to happen!

All together twenty-six of our officers went ashore leaving only a few behind on the ships. Included were Duarte Barbosa and Juan Rodríguez Serrano, our two Admirals, Alfonso de Goes, the new captain of the _Victoria_, San Martín, whose horoscopes failed to detect any danger, the Captain of the Guard, Espinosa, my old _friend_ Carvalho, and Enrique.

From the deck, we watched as the shore party was warmly greeted and disappeared into the village. We had settled in to wait, believing it would be very late that night or possibly the following morning before they returned. But to our great surprise Espinosa and Carvalho returned within half an hour.

Curious, I approached the Master-at-Arms and asked, "Is something wrong? Why did you return so quickly?"

Espinosa looked out over the water to where our crewmen had disappeared. "Something strange is going on. While we were being led to the banquet sight, I noticed the prince, the one who was healed, take Father Valderrama aside and lead him to his house."

Carvalho stepped up and continued, "We suspected a trap and came back for reinforce..." He was cut off by the distant sound of shouting and fighting in the direction of our companions ashore.

Espinosa cursed under his breath. With clenched teeth he turned to Carvalho and spoke, "You, sir, are the ranking officer in the fleet now. What are your orders?"

"Move the ships closer to shore and fire the cannons on the village!" Carvalho said coolly and I saw a smile play across his lips as he turned away. We did as he commanded.

I stood at the rail holding the niño, who was crying from the noise, and watched the unfolding destruction. Antonio quickly joined me. "What is happening!"

"Enrique has betrayed the fleet," I heard myself answer. His eyes went wide with surprise.

Soon after the bombardment began, figures appeared on the beach. We all gasped in surprise at the familiar figure in their midst. Serrano! The Admiral of the fleet was dragged bound and bleeding onto the sand. He managed to break free of his captors and ran for the water, but could not escape his pursuers and was viciously subdued again. One of the keepers prodded Serrano and we heard him call across the water, "Cease firing! Cease or they will kill me!"

Carvalho gave the signal and the guns fell silent. "What has happened?" he shouted.

Serrano shook his head. "All have been killed! They...they cut their throats. All save Enrique."

"What do we do, Sir?" someone asked in a low voice.

Carvalho seemed unfazed. "What are their demands?" the navigator called.

"They want two cannons brought to the beach," Serrano shouted back. "But don't waste time, Carvalho! Leave now before their reinforcements arrive and they try to capture the ships. Go! It is better that I should die then all in the fleet should be slain!"

"You heard our orders," Carvalho said quietly. "Prepare to sail." After a moment, the crew sadly set about carrying out their orders and I saw Carvalho smirk. We sailed away leaving one of the bravest and most loyal seamen I have ever known to die on the beach of Cebu.

Since we abandoned our comrades at Cebu, much has changed.

We ceased sailing several days after our flight to elect our new officers. As Espinosa had said, Carvalho was the senior officer left in the fleet. He was elected Admiral of the fleet and Captain of the _Trinidad_. In spite del Cano's experience and rank, he was not given the command of the _Victoria_. Instead, Espinosa was entrusted with the command of my former ship. It seems I am not the only one who still doesn't trust the former mutineer.

Of the two hundred sixty-five men who sailed from Seville, one hundred fifteen remained, to few to man all three ships. Carvalho decided to scuttle his former ship, the _Concepcion_, and for the last few days we have stripped the vessel of all useful material. Every nail and piece of rope that was worth saving has been divided between the _Trinidad_ and the _Victoria_. The _Concepcion's_ crew has been divided between the two ships and Carvalho brought his nine-year-old son aboard the _Trinidad_ with him.

Finally, it was time to light the pyre. At the last moment, I saw Carvalho carrying something back onto the ship. I quickly moved to stop him. "Captain," I said horrified, "those are Magellan's logbooks!"

He gave me a cold glare. "I am the Captain General of the fleet, Senhor! And you have other matters to be concerned about." He glanced at the niño and back to me. He pushed me aside and deposited the Admiral's records of our journey in the captain's cabin to be burned with the doomed _Concepcion_. Before long, flames had engulfed the once proud vessel and she sank, sizzling into the sea.

This may be the last that I am able to write in my own log for some time. I have no doubt that Carvalho would destroy it if he knew of its existence. Nothing good will come of his command, of that I am certain. Perhaps del Cano would have been the better choice.


	18. Entry 17

**September 26, 1521**

After five months of silence, I am finally able to take up my pen again. _Captain_ Carvalho has been deposed. Gomes de Espinosa now commands the fleet and del Cano is the Captain of the _Victoria_. Much has occurred to lead us to this.

After the _Trinidad_ and _Victoria_ left the remains of the _Concepcion_, we sailed to the southwest making slow progress through the islands and reefs of the archipelago. While on the island of Cebu, we had not concerned ourselves with the state of our stores or gathered fresh supplies. And so we found ourselves hungry and lost on an ocean we didn't know, wandering aimlessly.

We soon sighted snow capped mountains and sailed into a small bay. The natives were friendly and their rajah, whose name was Calanao, pledged everlasting friendship with us. He readily agreed to trade for supplies and a longboat was sent to bring them back to the ships. As usual, Antonio went along to see the sights of the island. But the food we received was all perishable and we soon needed more. Calanao informed us that we were not far from a place called Brunei. According to the Rajah, this was a major port for the trade routes from Cathay to the Spice Islands and was rich with gold and spices.

Our new Admiral Carvalho was interested in this port and asked the Rajah for directions. He hoped we would find native pilots to help guide us to our true destination. Our own few remaining seaman who knew something of navigation, myself and Carvalho included, could not find the way as none of us knew this sea and we had no charts. Magellan or San Martín would have known the way, but their knowledge was lost at Cebu.

We set course west-southwest and it wasn't long before we sighted another island. To our dismay, its natives were anything but friendly and we were forced to sail on, desperately needing more supplies. Changing course to the northwest, we sighted another island and followed its coastline to the northeast. The skiffs were out inspecting the waters ahead lest we run aground in the unfamiliar shoals. We came to a place where the shore was crowded with people and the boat crews pulled up quickly, fearing another hostile reception while aboard the _Trinidad_ a debate was taking place.

"Can we risk sending a shore party to the beach?" Carvalho asked. "We can't continue much farther without fresh provisions."

Juan de Campos, formerly the steward of the _Concepcion_ stepped forward. "I'll go, Captain. We must acquire fresh stores and if these people do prove hostile, my death would be of little consequence to the fleet. God would take pity on my soul." Carvalho nodded and shortly thereafter, Campos rowed alone to the shore. He somehow managed to convey that we wished to buy food and the next morning, they brought us a large supply of rice. They told us that a short distance to the north, there was a port where we could obtain more stores.

After a short voyage, we anchored in the port's harbor where we were well received by its rajah. Carvalho managed to make a peace treaty with him and also purchased goats, pigs and more rice. To our surprise while we loaded these supplies onto the ships, a black man appeared and greeted us in faltering Portuguese. His name was Bastiam and he was a Christian who claimed to know the route to Brunei. He agreed to lead us there, but failed to appear when we were ready to depart on June 21.

"What shall we do now, Captain?"

Carvalho looked out over the harbor toward a junk that was just entering the port. He smiled slightly. "We must have someone to guide us and that ship's navigator must know the way through this maze of islands."

It was as he ordered. We easily overpowered the junk and kidnapped three of its Muslim sailors, two of whom were pilots. Following their directions, we retraced our route southward along the island's coast and continued on to the west.

In a little over a fortnight, we sighted the entrance to Brunei Bay. The next morning we anchored in the busy port and a fleet of canoes came to greet us. Brunei was indeed a large and prosperous port city, built on pilings, whose waters were busy with ships. This was no country of savages, but rather a civilized kingdom.

Carvalho wisely released our captive Moorish seamen and sent them ashore with a message of greetings. The following day, we were welcomed to Brunei by eight emissaries from the island's Sultan, who sent gifts of food and fine wine. Six days later they returned aboard their decorated praus with musicians playing drums and gongs. We were presented with more gifts as well as a permit to take on supplies and to trade. Apparently, the Sultan believed we might be scouts for the Portuguese and was anxious to know our origins and intentions. Word of the sac of Malacca had reached even these seas. Carvalho called a council and it was decided that representatives must be sent to allay the Sultan's fears and assure him that we desired only peace.

"It might be best, Captain, if someone else was to lead the envoy," Antonio suggested. "They will not believe that we are not Portuguese if a Portuguese is leading us."

Carvalho nodded. "Then Espinosa will be in command. You, Pigafetta, will go as well. Espinosa can choose the rest of the away party. Take some of our best trade goods and trinkets as gifts for the Sultan and his Queen."

So Espinosa, Antonio, myself and four others were selected to bring Emperor Charles's greetings to the Sultan. I left the niño, not without a great deal of hesitation, with the Captain. Seeing my mistrust, Carvalho laughed slightly and said, "I have managed to care for my own son all these months, Mendoza. No harm will come to the niño." Despite his reassurances, I left reluctantly.

When the gifts were loaded, our party entered the natives' praus. We glided on the water until we reached the docks of the city. To our amazement, an escort met us with two huge elephants draped with silk. We were hoisted onto the backs of the great beasts and rode to a dignitary's house in grand fashion. We were treated to a fine banquet and spent that night in comfort on cotton mattresses lined with taffeta and sheets of soft cloth.

At noon on the following day, we again climbed onto the elephants' backs and rode to the Sultan's palace. The streets we traveled were lined with guards armed with swords, spears and shields. The palace itself was enclosed by a high wall lined with towers armed with bronze and iron cannons. Like most of the city, the palace had been built on poles and we had to climb a ladder to enter.

The main hall was filled with native noblemen wearing silk, gold and jewels. We were seated on a carpet next to porcelain jars that had been used to carry our gifts. At the end of the hall was a small raised room draped with silk and curtained. One curtain was drawn aside and we could see the Sultan, called Siripada, with one of his young sons. The Sultan was chewing on some kind of nut1 and behind him were a number of women servants, the daughters of the noblemen.

The chief of protocol explained that we must not address the Sultan directly. "If you require anything, tell it to me and I will communicate it to a person of higher rank." This message would then be passed to the king's official by means of a hole in the chamber wall.

But before we were allowed to do even this, we first had to perform a ritual required by court protocol. Facing the Sultan, we were to clasp our hands above our heads, raise first one foot and then the other, then blow kisses toward the Sultan. Antonio, being used to the customs of the Vatican and other court rituals, had no trouble performing the required tasks. The rest of us however, found it more...difficult. It still brings a smile to my face to remember crusty, tough Gomez de Espinosa, former Captain of the Guard and now a Captain of the fleet, muttering under his breath, his face quite red, performing the maneuvers. I think however that the elephant rides made up for this humiliation.

This done, our gifts were presented one by one to the Sultan, who acknowledged them with the slightest nod. We, in return, were each given a bolt of brocaded silk decorated with designs created with gold thread. Many a Spanish lady would have paid a great deal to have such finery. We were served refreshments spiced with cloves and cinnamon. Then the audience was over and the curtain was closed once again.

We rode back to the governor's house once again on the elephants, seven porters carrying our presents. We were greeted by more porters carrying trays for a thirty-two-course feast, which we ate with gold spoons while we drank rice wine from porcelain cups. That night we again slept in luxury and returned to the waterfront the following day aboard the elephants.

We were free to roam Brunei's streets, trading for the goods and provisions we so badly needed. Two of our Greek sailors enjoyed the port so much they deserted and became Moors. But the expedition has never been blessed with good fortune for long and peace has always been quickly followed by tragedy. Our luck had not changed.

Three weeks after our audience with the Sultan, the watch called Carvalho to the deck in dismay. Three armored junks had entered the harbor and anchored near our ships, blocking our exit.

"Be on guard," Captain Carvalho ordered. "This may be an attempt to take our ships and trade goods. Are any of our men still ashore?" he asked.

"Aye, Captain," was the reply. "Barruiti, Hernández, and your son, Joãozito, have not returned from buying the beeswax we need for caulking.

Time passed and the missing crewmen did not return and Carvalho's nervousness grew with each passing hour. Then, on the morning of July 29, a fleet of some two hundred pirogues left the port and seemed to be heading in our direction.

"Raise the anchors!" Carvalho ordered. "We'll have to fight our way clear!'

"But captain..."

"You all have your orders," Carvalho said, his face a mask. And they were carried out.

Ready to sail into open water, the gunners fired on the junks blocking our exit. The effect of the native ships was devastating. Many of their crew was killed and two of the junks actually ran aground trying to escape our fire. At Carvalho's order, the remaining junk was captured and taken in tow. But that night a squall sank the ship and our illustrious Captain had us return to the two other grounded junks. The crew of one of the vessels was easily overpowered and her passengers were taken captive.

It was soon discovered that we held a young prince, the son of a local rajah, who was serving as naval commander for the Sultan of Brunei. In addition to the prince, we also took ninety men and five noblewomen, one of whom had a very young child. Sixteen were held hostage, including the prince and three of the women who were exceptionally beautiful.

"We will take these lovely creatures with us on our return journey to Spain and will present them to the Queen," the admiral declared. But no one believed that this was his true motivation for as he spoke the words, lust was in his eyes. He took the three beautiful women to his cabin and they become his personal harem. Carvalho was showing his true character. Not long after, he released the prince, the only other hostage of any value, for a large sum of gold that he kept for himself.

To top it all, we received a message from the Sultan, which stated that the junks were not sent to attack us, but were returning from a campaign against a local rajah who switched his allegiance from Brunei to their enemies.2 A message was sent asking the Sultan to allow our men and Joãozito to return to us. Four days passed with no reply or sign of our comrades. We raised anchor and sailed away leaving our shipmates and the boy to an unknown fate.

We left Brunei Bay and sailed northeast along the coast, searching for a safe place to lie up and repair our leaky vessel, but without the aid of a local navigator, the islands were a maze of dangerous islets and reefs. The _Trinidad_ and the _Victoria_ were each grounded once in the treacherous waters but with luck, we were able to get them off again.

Carvalho was an unashamed pirate and seized any prize he could lay his hands on. Sighting four praus, the Admiral ordered us to give chase and we managed to capture one that was filled with coconuts.

On August 15, we finally found a small island with a protected anchorage and a beach where we could careen the ships and carry out the repairs. The island was given the name Nuestra Señora de Agosto and lay at 7ºN latitude.3 We have spent the last month making our vessels sea worthy again or at least as much as was possible.

Antonio kept himself amused by observing the local wildlife and he has certainly found at least one curiosity. He came back to the ships one day with a strange tale of leaves that walked and was anxious to show his strange find. Taking advantage of this distraction, I decided to take the niño for a walk and see Antonio's discovery.

Our progress was slow (the boy is still a little unsteady on his feet when on land), but pleasant as we made our way to the trees in question. Exactly as my friend had said, when the branches were shaken, leaves would fall and immediately began to scurry about. The niño was delighted and tottered after the fleeing flora. I bent down to examine these curious things more closely. "Are they animals or plants?" I wondered aloud as the leaf I had been studying fled from my touch. As I spoke, the niño, who had been tormenting the creeping foliage, suddenly lost his balance and sat down right on top of one.

Picking up the boy, we surveyed the damage. "Hmmm...they don't seem to have any blood," Antonio noted, looking at the sorry remains of the leaf-creature.

"What strange things we have found on this voyage. Flying fish, giant clams and now walking foliage!"4

Antonio carefully scooped up one of the critters in a box he had brought with him. "We'll take this one back to the ship for further study," and with that, we made our way back to the beach.

Several days later, Captain Carvalho awoke to find himself deposed. Juan Bautista Polcevera and Juan Sebastión del Cano had, with Espinosa's approval, been gathering the support of the crew and had finally presented Carvalho with their charges. He was found to have behaved immorally (the three women), a poor leader who put his own interests above that of the crew (the prince's ransom) and an inferior navigator (that should have been obvious back in Verzin5). To put it bluntly, the crew was disgusted with our Portuguese commander. At least Carvalho was wise enough not to contest the motion.

Espinosa in now the Captain of the _Trinidad_ and del Cano commands the _Victoria_ while Polcevera is the Admiral of the fleet. We have repaired the ships as best we can and tomorrow we will set out again in search of the Spice Islands. Will we ever find them?

1 A betel nut

2 The people of Java

3 Jambongon

4 The leaf-critters are actually camouflaged bugs. In the 1500s they didn't know such things could exist, but Pigafetta described them in detail in his journal.

5 Another old name for Brazil.


	19. Entry 18

**Island of Tidore. The Spice Islands. December 21, 1521**

We finally reached our one true goal: the Spice Islands. Both ships have been loaded with a cargo of cloves worth a king's ransom back in Europe, but misfortune has at least one last trick to play on us. The sound of the _Victoria's_ gun has faded and her sails have vanished over the horizon while the lonely _Trinidad_ remains trapped on this island. And I have said what may well be a final farewell to my friend Antonio Pigafetta, who has departed with the only other remaining ship of Magellan's once proud fleet.

We completed the repairs by September 27 and left our temporary sanctuary once again in search of the fabled Spice Islands. But, while morale was improved by Carvalho's being deposed, discipline and our mission seemed to be forgotten. Our two ships were little more than pirate vessels, raiding the local seaways forever in need of supplies and foodstuff.

Aboard one of the junks we took was a rajah, Tuan Maamud, who readily paid our ransom of four hundred measures of rice, twenty swine, twenty goats, and one hundred fifty fowl in addition to coconuts, bananas, sugar cane and palm wine. When the ransom was delivered the hostages were released, their weapons given back to them, and they were given several bolts of cloth, banners and robes. We sailed on in early October loaded with our fresh supplies.

Passing straits, reefs and islands we searched for information about the Spice Islands. We encountered a flat calm and while we were stalled, a large native vessel was sighted. Unable to close with it, our commanders sent two boats in pursuit of the craft. Although the natives defended themselves well with their scimitars and shields, they were taken prisoner. It was from these people that we gained a solid lead about the location of the islands we sought. We changed our course from northeast to southeast and continued skirting islands searching for our goal.

After several days we anchored in a small harbor. The locals were curious about us and among those that paid us a visit was an old man who claimed to know the way to the Spice Islands. He and two of his friends agreed to guide us but on the appointed day, only his two companions appeared. Despite their wish to now remain on their island, they were forced to stay with the fleet. One managed to escape by jumping overboard, but the other remained our captive navigator. Despite his captivity with us, he proved an excellent navigator, warning us of dangerous natives on islands we passed and guiding our course toward the islands we sought.

It was on Friday, November 8, 1521, that a tall peak appeared above the horizon. It was Ternate, one of the islands we had sought for so long and sacrificed so much to behold. After twenty-seven months, the once proud fleet of five ships and two hundred sixty-five men had been reduced to two leaky vessels and one hundred seven men. But we had survived to see the fabled islands where clove tree grow, half way around the world from where we started.

The islands had excellent anchorage and we dropped anchor in twenty fathoms of water quite close to the shore. As our anchors plunged into the azure waters, the cannons fired a salute. The next day, a prau carrying the island's rajah under a silken awning approached our ships. The commanders, anxious to make a good impression, dispatched a delegation in one of the boats to greet him.

"Welcome travelers," the Sultan, Almansor, greeted us. "Some time ago I dreamed that strange ships would come to my island from distant lands. Your arrival is the fulfillment of that dream." The rajah and his entourage were invited aboard our ships and honored with many gifts. "You are welcome ashore," Almansor proclaimed, "as if in your own homes."

We had expected to be greeted by a Portuguese adventurer named Francisco Serrão, an old friend of Magellan's, who was serving as military advisor to the Sultan of the neighboring island of Ternate. When we inquired after him, we learned he had become involved in a dispute between the rulers of the two islands. Trying to bring about peace, Serrão forced Almansor to give one of his daughters in marriage to Boleyse, the Sultan of Ternate. Eight months before our arrival, Almansor invited the adventurer to a banquet...and poisoned him. Ten days later Boleyse, Serrão's former patron, was poisoned by his own daughter who was the wife of another Sultan with whom he father had quarreled. Needless to say, we all were relieved when Almansor didn't invite us to a banquet.

On Monday, two praus appeared from the direction of Ternate. They carried the red velvet robed son of the dead Rajah Boleyse accompanied by Serrão's widow and two sons. After a somewhat tricky diplomatic situation, the visit proved very valuable, for among the visiting entourage was a Christian native who spoke Portuguese. Called Manuel, he was the servant of another Portuguese trader, Pedro de Lorosa, who had come to Ternate from Banda after Serrão's demise. Manuel was invited back to our ships where he explained that, although the sultans were at odds with each other, they were all sick of the Portuguese and would be willing to ally themselves with Spain.

The captains were delighted and sent Manuel back to his master with an invitation to visit our ships. In the afternoon of November 13, Lorosa came to the _Trinidad_ and brought with him the first news of Europe we had heard since the fleet sailed from the Canaries two years before. We learned that a year before our arrival, a large ship had come to Ternate from Malacca for cloves. Its captain informed Lorosa that King Manuel had learned of our departure and had dispatched warships to intercept us. One sailed to the Cape of Good Hope in case we went east and one was sent to Cape Santa María should Magellan search for a western passage.

When both failed to locate the fleet, King Manuel ordered Diogo Lopes de Sequiera, the commander of all Portuguese naval forces in India, to send six warships to catch us at the Spice Islands. But Sequiera's forces were already committed to battling the Turks in the Red Sea and he could only send one ship in search of us. He also ordered other Portuguese vessels to keep alert for news of our fleet. A Portuguese vessel had left Tidore only days before we arrived.

So enthralled were we with Lorosa's news that no one noticed the hours passing by. The commanders convinced the Portuguese trader to return with his family to Spain where he would be handsomely paid for his knowledge and services. Lorosa readily agree and they continued to speak until three in the morning.

In the days that followed, Espinosa kept everyone on a tight leash, not wanting relations with the natives to turn against us. As a result, the crews were better behaved since before Magellan was killed.

The next visitor to our ships was an elderly rajah named Halmabea who ruled the island of Gilolo. A great warrior in his younger days, he was very curious about our weapons and the commanders were only too happy to demonstrate them. Obviously very impressed, this rajah returned two days later with a signed peace treaty. Within the month, we had also signed treaties with the rajah of Makian and the princes of Ternate.

As always, Antonio wanted to go ashore and learn about the locals. The niño and I were almost always his traveling companions. I have received much the same reactions to the boy and his medal as I had on Cebu. The people seemed to recognize the symbols engraved on its surface and related it to a legend among these islands.

Where did he come from? His father appeared to be a European, but why did these people tell stories of this medallion? Could he have sailed across the Pacific? I held the centerpiece of the medallion, considering the possibilities when I heard a very familiar and very unwelcome voice over my shoulder.

"Well, Mendoza, what do you have there?." Carvalho! I turned quickly trying to hide the centerpiece but to no avail. The officer took the golden disk from my hands and examined it. "What a strange piece. Where did you get this from?" I remained silent, not wanting to tell the navigator anything. To my horror, he shifted his gaze from me to the niño, or more specifically, the crescent part of the medallion that hung from his neck. He took hold of its cord and pulled over the boy's head. The niño began to wail but Carvalho paid no attention. As I watched, he slipped the center bit back into place. "Well, so this is where it belongs!" He looked back to me. "Stealing from babies, Mendoza? I didn't know you were capable of such things." He clucked his tongue in disapproval.

"If you are so dismayed by it, why don't you return the medallion to its proper owner?" I nodded at the boy who was pawing at the Portuguese navigator. Carvalho looked annoyed and pushed the boy away.

"As an officer of the fleet, it is my duty to report this theft to the Captains! Unless..."

"Unless what?" I asked carefully.

Carvalho smiled unpleasantly. "Unless you give this piece to me," he stated simply.

That was enough. I wasn't about to be blackmailed by this pathetic excuse for a seaman. I strode forward and took the medallion from him. "You can do what you like. I'd rather get the lash than give this to you."

"You fool!" he snarled furiously. But the snarl turned into a racking cough.

I didn't wait around for the pilot to regain his breath and quickly picked up the niño. I left without another word or a backward glance. I returned the crescent part of the medallion to the boy but the centerpiece remains in my possession. I couldn't give it up!

To my amazement, I received neither the lash nor a reprimand for, as things turned out, Carvalho couldn't give away my secret. The very day of our confrontation, he took ill and died three days later. I was safe.

While most of the crew was willing to part with any of their few possessions for the valuable spices, the commanders waited to conduct the official trading with Almansor. Their patient paid off for is wasn't long before the Sultan visited our ships and told us that many bales of cloves had been gathered, ready to be loaded aboard our ships. Good to his word, we began loading the spices onto the Trinidad two days later while Almansor looked on.

"It is our custom to celebrate the loading of the first cloves with a feast," the Sultan said. "Would you and your crew be my guests ashore?"

"Regretfully, Your Majesty," Espinosa said, undoubtedly remembering Serrão's fate, "we must depart as soon as the cloves are loaded. We would be honored if Your Highness would visit us again before we depart."

The Sultan was shocked. "Of course I will come again but please, my friend, you must not leave us so soon!" To our surprise he seemed to be on the verge of tears. "I swear on the Holy Koran that I will always be faithful to the King of Spain! Please stay!"

He seemed so sincerely distressed that Espinosa agreed to stay another fortnight. He also presented Sultan Almansor with a royal standard and a banner bearing the royal seal to serve as symbols of his fealty to our King. Espinosa also said he would leave five of our crew behind to operate our trading post.

On December 17, we were ready to set out on the homeward journey. Each ship had been given fresh sails with a newly painted cross of Santiago and the inscription _Ésta es la enseña de nuestra buenaventura.__1_The holds were crammed with the rich cargo of spices.

Almansor came to see us off and he was given several arquebuses, a few small cannons, and four barrels of gunpowder. As he was about to leave the _Trinidad_, the observant ruler noted, "It might not be wise to fire your cannons in salute when you depart our harbor. The shock may open the seams of your ships." Although we headed his warning, no one noticed that the hulls had already been weakened.

The following morning, the _Victoria_ got underway first and waited for the _Trinidad_ outside the harbor. As the _Trinidad_ prepared to sail, our anchor was snagged and as we struggled to free it, the hull groaned. The seams burst below the water line and water began to seep at an alarming rate into the bilge. Puzzled by the delay, the _Victoria_ sailed back into the harbor as we desperately unloaded the precious cargo and worked at the pumps. The _Trinidad_ was heeled over as far as possible in an attempt to slow the leak, but the water continued to rise. Almansor learned of our troubles and sent divers to attempt to discover the source of the inflow, but even this was unsuccessful.

That night Espinosa called a counsel to determine what should be done. "It is obvious now that the _Trinidad_ will have to undergo extensive and lengthy repairs before she is sea worthy again," he began.

"But we cannot wait," del Cano objected. "The monsoon will soon shift. If we do not leave before this, our entry into the Indian Ocean will be blocked by the northwest monsoon. It would be months before we could travel the Cape route."

They sat in silence for sometime before Espinosa spoke again. "We have no choice," he said quietly. He looked to the others. "The _Victoria_ should set out for home by way of the Cape as soon as possible."

"But what will the _Trinidad_ do?"

"I will not wait for the monsoon to shift again. We will recross the Pacific and attempt to land at Darien."2

The others were surprised to say the least. "You want to cross that hellish ocean again?"

"We have little choice," Espinosa countered. "The longer we remain here, the greater the risk that we will encounter the Portuguese. I believe we can make the crossing again."

"The danger is great in both routes," del Cano said thoughtfully. "I will have to sail far south in order to avoid the Portuguese shipping lanes. How can we divide the crews?"

The trio considered for a few moments. "The only fair way to divide them is by lot."

And so it was done. One by one each man came forward and chose their fate...and friends were parted. I was to stay with the _Trinidad_ and Antonio was to sail with the _Victoria_.

This morning the _Victoria_ was ready to sail, but they delayed until midday to allow those staying behind time to write letters home and say goodbye to the shipmates. We had become like brothers although we were all of different nationalities and spoke different tongues. Our sufferings and triumphs had brought us unity. Finally, the _Victoria_ raised anchor and began to pull away. Some followed in boats for a while, but the wind filled her sails and she pulled away.

The _Victoria_ has disappeared and the _Trinidad_ is alone.

1 This is the sign of our good fortune.

2 Panama


	20. Entry 19

**Malacca. August 3, 1522.**

Much time has past. I have left the _Trinidad_ and, traveling on my own save for the niño, I have made my way across the sea to the Portuguese outpost of Malacca. I can only hope that my luck will hold and that the truth of who I am will not come out.

Almansor was greatly relieved to learn of the _Victoria's_ departure. He was anxious to have word of his friendship reach Emperor Charles. He also remained very helpful to those of us who remained behind. He gave us shelter and a place to store our cloves and other cargo, as well as two hundred twenty-five laborers to help repair our ship. Though they were a great help, the hull was in such poor condition that the repairs took four months.

During that time I considered my options carefully. The return crossing of the Pacific could very well prove as deadly as before and I still had the niño to think of. During the first crossing, Magellan's personal stores had helped keep us alive. Though Espinosa and I had long ago settled any differences we once had, he could not help if the _Trinidad's_ crew faced starvation again.

With these thoughts in mind, I went to find Espinosa in early February 1522. I found him supervising the moving of our trade goods into the factoría. As I approached, he spoke, "They are taking up to much room in the hold. By removing these things, we can carry more spice back to Spain and not be overloaded."

"It is our return voyage that I wish to speak to you of, Captain."

The former Captain of the Guard turned to face me. "What do you mean, Señor Mendoza?"

I shifted the niño in my arms and continued. "You know only to well, Captain Espinosa, how difficult the Pacific crossing was and to be blunt, I doubt this child could survive a second trip."

"Then leave the boy here," Espinosa stated. "I'm sure that the Sultan's wives would care for him."

I shook my head. "Admiral Magellan ordered me to care for this boy and to protect him. I must carry out this order."

Espinosa stared at me for a long time. "Very well, you may remain behind to help operate the factoría."

"Thank you, Captain Espinosa. I am in your debt."

And so it came about that I remained in Tidore with five other seamen. We watched as the _Trinidad_ set out on her return voyage leaving us behind. We were alone in that foreign land, but I did not intend to stay for long. Already I had asked the Rajah of Gilolo to allow me to travel to his island and from there onto others. I knew that I must find my own way back to my homeland.

I left Tidore a week after the _Trinidad_ had departed in a canoe piloted by Rajah Halmabea's men. I left quietly without saying farewell to my companions. I could not look back.

The Rajah welcomed the niño and me warmly and invited us to stay on his island for as long as I desired. I would gladly have stayed there for sometime and planned my future movements had not fate, in the form of a Portuguese fleet, intervened. Fifteen days after the _Trinidad_ set sail, seven Portuguese ships arrived at Ternate. Word was brought by Luis Molina, one of the factoría workers, who managed to escape and flee to Gilolo.

Sultan Almansor, despite his promises, quickly reaffirmed his allegiance to the Portuguese crown, saying we had forced him to cooperate with us. The Portuguese destroyed the factoría and seized its contents. Apparently word had reached them from junks trading in their ports that two Spanish ships had arrived at Tidore. Their suspicions were confirmed when Alonso de Cota, another companion from the factoría, traveled to an island called Gorong and was captured and imprisoned there.

It was only my desire to travel own my on back to Spain that saved me from a similar fate.

Though the Rajah Halmabea promised he would not betray me and the niño to the Portuguese, I was reluctant to remain on his island. I had no desire to spend the rest of my life in a foreign land, always fearful of being captured by Portuguese agents. But what could I do? I considered my few options and slowly a plan began to form in my mind.

I made careful inquiries about the ships that had visited the islands for the last two years and which islands they traded with from here to Calicut. With this information my plan might succeed. Finally, I went to the Rajah to ask for his help. Though he was distressed that we (the niño and I) were leaving, he made no attempt to stop me and even made me a gift of several small bags of spices and one of pearls. He also arranged for the niño and me to make the first part of our journey aboard a junk traveling to Malacca where the next stage of my plan could be put into motion. I departed with words of thanks and boarded the junk that would carry us closer to home.

We sailed for several weeks before reaching our destination during which time I learned a great deal about the isles and sea of this part of the world. To my amazement, I discovered that Cebu, where the fleet had met its greatest disasters, was only just north of the Spice Islands. Six months were wasted on a journey that should have taken a few weeks. We also sailed near Brunei but, to my great relief, the junk's captain did not put in there. I doubt any European will receive a warm welcome there anytime in the near future thanks to the bumbling of the now deceased Carvalho.

The Captain carefully avoided both the pirates that terrorize these seas, called the Wako1, and Portuguese vessels, both of whom are equally dangerous. Finally, the junk arrived in the port of Malacca.

Although it is still a thriving port, the city bears the signs of cannon and fire, the scars inflicted when the Portuguese took over. They controlled the city now and use its position as a vital stop on the sea-lanes to the Spice Islands and beyond to their advantage. There were in fact several caravels in port when the junk docked, but it was soon apparent that none of these would suit my needs. I knew I had to bide my time and wait for an opportunity to present itself.

Malacca was truly a crossroad for all trade both to the west and to the east and sailors from all the surrounding countries came there looking for work. I set myself up with the niño in what passed for an inn in these parts and waited. Weeks went by.

At last, word came that a new caravel had come into port. The news was brought by the cabin boy of that very ship, the _Estrela da Noite_, which was in need of new crewmen. Anyone that was interested was to return with the boy and several went with him immediately, but I went to collect the niño before I too went to the docks. He was the key to my plans.

The _Estrela da Noite_ was a fair sized caravel, which had seen some violent seas lately. One mast had been torn away and her remaining sails hung in tatters. As I climbed the gangplank, I heard the captain of the vessel addressing those who had been assembled.

"...damaged in a hurricane. Many of my men were lost. But we shall repair the _Estrela_ and will, once we have taken on our cargo, return to Lisbon. Any man willing to sail with us will be well paid." Most of those present eagerly signed on.

I waited until all but the ships own crew had departed or were occupied before I approached the captain of the vessel, trying to ignore the curious gaze of the cabin boy from the inn. The captain was fairly young, perhaps ten years older than myself, and though his glance was stern, it was not unkind.

He spoke as I halted before him. "A strange sight. What does a seaman with a young child want of me?" he asked.

"Senhor," I said trying to speak Portuguese the best I knew how, "I am in need of your help."

"A Spaniard, no less," he said to himself. "Well, Señor, what do you wish of me?"

I took a breath and began the story I had so carefully rehearsed. "Captain, you are correct. I am a Spaniard. I traveled to the Spice Islands three years ago aboard the _Esperança_. I found life there so pleasant, I decided to remain among those islands. I married a young woman of Tidore, but she died two years ago giving birth to this boy." I nodded to the niño, hoping I sounded truthful. The Captain's face was impassive and I was doing my best to ignore the crew's stares. "I no longer have a reason to stay. The islands are no longer as appealing as they once were. I have worked my way from Tidore to Malacca and have waited for a ship that was bound for Europe and that needed crewmen. If you would allow me to work your vessel and my son to travel with me, you may keep my wage."

The Captain considered my words. Finally he spoke, "Although I doubt you have told me all there is to your tale, I am in need of experienced seamen who know how to handle a European ship. But the child must not interfere with your duties."

Relieved, I quickly replied, "You have my word that he won't, Captain."

"Very well," he extended his hand, "I am Alfonso Camões, welcome aboard the _Estrela da Noite_."

Hardly had I finished speaking to Captain Camões and began to walk away when the cabin boy intercepted us.

"What's his name?" he asked nodding to the niño.

Surprised, I hesitated before answering with the first name that came to mind...my own. "Blas."

"How old is he?"

"Two and a half," I answered and quickly asked a question of my own before the boy could make any more inquiries. "Would you like to take care of him for me while I go back to our inn for our things and to settle the account?"

In answer the boy held out his hands for the niño.

I returned a few hours later to find the boy playing with the small child. "They seem to be getting on well," I said to no one in particular. "He is very patient with the child." The crewmen standing near me and who had overheard my comments laughed at the words. "What is it?" I asked a little annoyed.

"Take another look, Señor. That is not a boy and I would not advise you to address her as such. She wouldn't find it amusing."

I turned back to the two children. "He is a girl!"

"Yes," the man replied in amusement. "That is Andeanna Camões, the daughter of our Captain."

"How is it that she sails with us?"

"Her mother died when she was young and the Captain had no other family."

"And what of the mother's kin?"

The seaman shook his head. "Her mother was a Verzin Indian who the Captain brought back to Portugal. They were married not long after. After her death, he no longer would sail to the New World and became a merchant here in the east. For a time the girl lived at a convent while her father was away. But she proved to trying for the good sisters," some of the sailors laughed in sympathy, "and they sent her back to her father three years ago. She has sailed with us ever since."

"If she doesn't like being taken for a boy, why does she dress like a boy and have short hair?"

"Her hair was cut when it became clear we would need new crewmen. Most of us," he gestured to the others working around him, "have sailed with Captain Camões for years and treat Anda as a little sister. But the new crew the Captain couldn't be so sure of."

"And yet you tell me this secret my first day aboard," I said incredulously.

He shrugged. "I doubt you would abuse the girl. You're European and have a child yourself. And we can explain to you that any harm that comes to her," he smiled pleasantly, "will come out of the inflictor's hide."

For the last three weeks the _Estrela_ has been repaired and a cargo of fine cloth and spices has been taken aboard. The repairs are now complete and we are preparing to depart Malacca. We are finally setting out for Europe.

Home.

1 Fierce Japanese pirates.


	21. Entry 20

**Lisbon, Portugal. December 10, 1522. **

I can hardly believe my eyes! Before me, as I write these lines, I can see the coast of Europe. Despite all the dangers and trials, I have returned home. The niño is still with me, though he will not be for much longer. Somehow in the remaining pages I must give an account of the voyage of the _Estrela_ and the strange people that helped me return home after three long years.

Captain Camões, despite the misfortune of the storm and his lost crewmen, proved an excellent captain and a good navigator. I could not help but take an interest in navigating through this strange ocean. Anda continued to take care of the niño although she would not associate much with the new crewmen.

After several weeks, we reached Calicut where we would take on fresh supplies before continuing on to Africa. Normally, this would have been routine, but I have begun to expect the unexpected in any situation. My life thus far has taught me that much...and I was not disappointed.

Like Malacca, Calicut was an important port in this part of the world long before the Portuguese arrived. And, like Malacca, the city still bore the scars of the battle. The "Franks", as the Portuguese are called here, had taken over and forced most of the locals to give up the sea. As a result, the Portuguese army that was stationed there was kept very busy keeping the local population in line. Many of the out of work native sailors had turned to piracy and bandit gangs. The streets of Calicut were far from safe, but few of us realized this.

Captain Camões decided to allow the crew to have shore leave before setting out for Africa and the Cape of Good Hope. We went ashore in shifts but when my turn came, I had unexpected company. Anda Camões had insisted on coming with me and even brought the niño.

Past experiences had taught me to not rely entirely on ship's store to provide steady meals, especially with a young child to care for. With this in mind I went into the city in search of provisions. In spite of the Portuguese occupation, the market of Calicut was still operated by the natives and was filled with exotic foods and merchandise from across the eastern world.

"Stay close, Anda," I said as the girl stopped to look at a vender's wears. She gave me a rather irritated look, but took the niño more firmly by the hand and we wandered deeper into the selling stalls. Rice, salted meat, and fruit were what I needed to find and I finally found a vendor who would sell me what I required. After haggling for some time over a price, which was very difficult as the woman only knew about ten words of Portuguese, we settled with my giving her one of the pearls the Rajah Halmabea had presented me with.

"Here Anda," I said as I turned to the two children, "I need you to carry..." and stopped when I realized I was talking to myself. Anda and the niño were gone.

I hurried back through the crowded market, looking for the two children. Asking the sellers when possible, I found myself in searching the back streets of Calicut. And I found them in the worst possible place...in a trash filled back alley, facing a group of five bandits.

Anda stood with her back to the wall with the niño behind her, both very afraid. I cursed both the situation and myself for not bringing my pistol or at least my sword. Without arms, I had little chance of saving the children, but there was no other choice.

Just then, Anda's frightened eyes met mine, but the girl had enough sense not to give me away. Instead she gave me the opening I needed. Grabbing the niño up, the cabin 'boy' ran down the alley, away from me. The assailants shouted angrily and three went after the fleeing children, leaving two behind with their backs to me.

Moving carefully from my place of concealment and I crept up behind the two bandits. One I dispatched quickly with a rock, but the other sounded the alarm before I could silence him as well. He quickly rounded on me and pulled a dagger he was carrying from its sheath. I dodged the lunges of the knife-wielding assailant and desperately grabbed his arm knowing I only had moments to finish this fight before his companions joined in. Giving the captured limb a quick, hard twist, I forced the man to drop his weapon and kicked it out of reach into some rubbish. I slammed his body against one of the walls of the alley and he slumped to the ground, unconscious. But that still left three to deal with. Not the best odds.

One of the bandits yelled something that sounded like a curse and rushed to attack me. Before he could close the distance, the man seemed to trip and a reddish liquid ran down the back of his head into his shirt. He stopped in confusion and touched the strange substance, then tasted it. Surprised he turned to look behind him and I could see the remains of a very ripe piece of fruit clinging to his hair. A piece of fruit that had been thrown by Anda. The bandit, who seemed to be the leader of the group, shouted something angrily and the other two went after the troublesome girl.

"Get out of here!" I shouted as my attacker lunged at me again. From the other end of the alley, I heard the girl scream and the niño wail. There was little I could do to help either as I faced my new opponent. This fight would be hand-to-hand.

Exchanging a few blows, we circled each other watching for an opportunity. His fighting style was unlike anything that I had even before and there was little I knew to counter it. He attacked with both fists and feet and still managed to block my punches with ease it seemed. I was going to lose this battle if I didn't do something quickly. Managing to avoid a series of attacks, I dived into the pile of garbage where the other bandit's dagger had disappeared, slicing my hand against its blade. Ignoring the pain, I whirled and brought the weapon up to ward off the attack I knew was coming...and watched as the shaft buried itself in his chest. He stumbled back in surprise, pulling the dagger free of his body as he did so. He fell backwards onto the street, dead before he hit the ground.

I moved quickly to where the children had been, fearing the worst. There was no way for a twelve-year-old girl and a baby to defend themselves against two bandits. But when I reached the other end of the alley, another surprise awaited me there.

Anda stood holding the niño, both very much alive and staring wide eyed at the three men before them. Two lay on the ground, either dead or stunned while a third looked down at them. But this man I knew. It was one of the foreign seamen who had joined the _Estrela's_ crew at Malacca.

"Where on earth did you come from?" I heard myself say.

Hurrying back to our ship, our new companion surprised us by revealing that he spoke Portuguese very well and he said that his name was Hisoka. Up until now, he had always been silent aboard the _Estrela,_ but now he spoke freely. "I noticed you searching for the children in the market and followed in case you needed help."

"It was amazing," Anda said staring at the strange sailor. "If he hadn't stepped in when he did, those bandits would have killed us."

"That reminds me…" I threw the young girl an irritated look. "I thought I told you to stay close to me."

Anda actually looked a little sheepish. "It was an accident! We were walking through a crowd and I lost my hold on little Blas (it was strange hearing her use my name when speaking of the niño). I stopped to find him and lost sight of you. It was just after I found the boy again that those bandits started chasing us."

"They weren't bandits, they were slave traders," Hisoka calmly put in. "Had they captured you, death would have seemed a reward in the life you would have led." Anda paled and even I felt a little sick.

Changing the subject, the girl asked, "Where did you learn to fight as you do, Hisoka? I have never seen anything like it."

He shrugged. "I have learned what I could while I traveled across the eastern world, from country to country, until I found myself in Malacca. I began to learn your language there and decided I wished to see your Europe. When the _Estrela_ docked in Malacca's port, I signed on board and the rest you know." He turned his gaze from the girl to me. "You did very well yourself. Even I couldn't have defeated all five of the slavers."

"I was only just able to beat the three I faced one at a time while it seems you easily dispatched two at once." I looked at the traveler. "Could you teach me to fight as you do?"

Hisoka smiled slightly. "If you can teach me European combat and weapons in return." I nodded in acceptance and we continued on to the _Estrela_ in silence.

After all the adventures and surprises that had confronted us that day, one would have thought that was enough. But fate had one more trick for me.

Anda rushed up the gangplank of the _Estrela_ and into her father's cabin, anxious to tell our tale. "FatherwegotlostandwereattackedbyslaversbutMendozaandHisokaarrived  
justintimeandsavedourlives!" Apparently her father was used to this type of talk although it took the rest of us a while to figure out what the girl had said.

Captain Camões swept his daughter up in a tight hug, saying softly, "Can't you go anywhere without finding trouble? I'm going to have to start confining you to the ship." The girl merely laughed and her father set her down. He then bowed to both Hisoka and myself. "Thank you from the bottom of my heart for saving Anda. I am in your debt." He glanced back at the girl and said, "You had better go find some food for yourselves and rest." We all began to leave but the Captain called me back saying, "I would like another word with you, Mendoza. Please close the door." I did as he asked, wondering what this was all about. We stood there for some time, neither speaking. Finally the Captain began, "I have had disturbing news, Mendoza."

Apprehensively I asked, "Is there something I can do, Captain?"

"Yes," he said as he turned to look at me. "You can tell me the truth."

"I don't unders..."

"I know you have lied to me, Señor," he interrupted. "Your story never seemed quite right and now I know you did not come to these lands aboard a Portuguese vessel. The shipping records here in Calicut have told me that much. And now I believe I have the missing piece of the puzzle. I have learned that a Spanish ship was recently captured trespassing in our territory. A ship from a fleet sent by your king under the command of a countryman of mine, Ferdinand Magellan."

He knew and I could not deny it. "What are you going to do, Captain?" I asked carefully.

He turned his back to me and walked to the other end of the cabin. "Before today," he said sternly, "I might have turned you over to officials here in Calicut." He looked back to me and his gaze softened. "But now I owe you a debt. Honor demands that I save you as you saved my daughter. But if I am to protect you, I must know the whole truth."

It was late in the evening before I finished my tale but the Captain's attention never wavered.

"Extraordinary!" he said in awe as I finished. "What a seaman Magellan was! Truly Portuguese in action if not in loyalty."

"Captain," I asked hesitantly finally able to ask the question that had been plaguing my mind for hours, "you said that one of Magellan's ships has been taken by your government." Camões focused his attention on me again. "What was the name of that ship?"

He looked at me sympathetically and answered, "The _Trinidad_. Apparently her crew was near starvation when our ships captured them."

I suddenly felt very weary. "Espinosa," I said softly, "I knew trying to recross the Pacific could only lead to disaster." I looked up at the Captain and asked, "What will become of the crew?"

"They have been imprisoned and probably brought back to Calicut eventually. I doubt the viceroy here, Vasco da Gama, will show them any consideration. The lucky ones may survive to eventually be returned to Portugal as prisoners. If you want to avoid a similar fate, we will have to leave port very soon. Any Spaniard will be under suspicion. In the meantime, do not leave the _Estrela_."

"Yes, Captain," I acknowledged, rising to leave. I wanted nothing more than to rest.

"One more thing, Mendoza," he stopped me. I paused and looked back. "Perhaps you can assist me with the navigation from here to Lisbon. Continue your studies."

I nodded. "I would appreciate that Captain." With that I left, closing the cabin door behind me. Thoughts of my former ships and those who sailed them filled my thoughts that night. I could not help but wonder what had become of the _Victoria_. May her voyage end better than the _Trinidad_.

We left Calicut six days later and sailed on for Africa. After many adventures, which I can't relate here in my log for lack of blank pages, we finally rounded the Cape of Good Hope and sailed into the Atlantic. I never thought that the deep blue waters of that ocean could be so welcoming. But I had little time to think of such things for I was kept busy by my many obligations.

In addition to my regular duties, everyday I spent time with Hisoka learning all I could of his strange fighting style. The rest of the crew found it quite amusing to watch us especially in the first few weeks when Hisoka could easily counter every punch I tried and send me to the deck. But they haven't been laughing lately. While I may never be able to adopt it entirely, by blending it with what I have learned in the army and my many adventures, I have created a style that is all my own and very effective. The Captain has made good on his promise to continue my studies of navigation and I have learned much of this sea. Anda spends most of her time taking care of the niño and following Hisoka and I around the ship (which has proved another source of laughter for the _Estrela's_ crew).

Finally the day before yesterday, the watch called out the words I had been longing to hear. "Land ho!" We all rushed to the rails. Europe. It has been over three years since I have seen this shore and yet my journey isn't over yet.

This morning Captain Camões called me into his cabin and presented me with a choice. "Mendoza," he began, "I have decided not to sell our cargo in Lisbon but...I believe you should remain here in Portugal."

I was confused to say the least. "What do you mean, Captain?"

"You have a great gift, Mendoza, a natural talent for navigation, but you could be better." He stood and took a letter from a nearby table. "This is a letter recommending you to the school our Prince Henry founded to study navigation at Sagres. I have friends there who will see to it that you learn from the very best."

I didn't know what to say. It was an offer I couldn't refuse, but there was a problem. What could I do with the niño? Then I had an idea. "Captain, I accept your offer with gratitude and I have a suggestion for you. Sell your cargo in Barcelona."

"Why Barcelona?"

"You will get a good price but I admit, I have another reason to suggest this particular port. The niño." I explained to him that Maria was undoubtedly still living in the city and I could be assured of the boy's safety.

"There is sense in this plan," the Captain said after considering for a moment. "Very well, once you have disembarked, we will sail for Barcelona."

And so I have come to the end of my account. I have filled the logbook as Magellan ordered and I am ready for my next adventure. When I finish writing this, I will give the book to Captain Camões who has promised to entrust it to you, Maria. Now you know all that has occurred and know that I am safe. I hope that my time in Portugal will be relatively short and that I may soon return to Spain and to you. I know that you will take care of the niño for me and will see to it that he is given a name. I think that he has been called 'the niño' for far too long.

Farewell for now, Madre.

Blas de Mendoza


	22. Epilogue

Barcelona, Spain. January 31, 1523.

Mendoza, I hope this note I write will eventually come into your hands for there is much you should know of. Father does not know that I have read your log or that I am writing this message now, but he has had other things on his mind.

We were all surprised when my father told the crew that we would not be remaining in Lisbon, but were even more surprised when you left the ship alone. I could not understand why you left especially since you told me to take care of the niño until we reached Barcelona. It was only after we had sailed on that Father explained what was going on. I should have seen that the niño wasn't your son, but I can understand your reasons for lying. But this isn't what I needed to tell you.

We arrived in Barcelona safety, but father was very busy with the business of the cargo and left it to me to find Maria. Taking the niño with me, I easily followed your instructions to her home. She was very surprised to meet us, but when I explained what brought us to her, she was overwhelmed with joy. She thought that you had died at sea. You have probably heard by now heard that the last ship of Magellan's fleet managed to return to Seville, but that most of her crew had perished during the long voyage. The _Victoria's_ remaining men have been welcomed as heros and your King sent for her Captain, Juan Sebastian del Cano, shortly after they arrived in Spain. He is being hailed as the great leader whose guidance and intelligence made up for Magellan's bungling. Isn't it ironic! The mutineer has become the hero and the great navigator has been turned into a villain!

In spite her joy at knowing you were safe, Maria still has much sadness in her life. When we met, she would not allow us to come into her home as her brother's family are very ill and did not want to expose me or the niño to the sickness. So I have kept Esteban with me aboard the _Estrela_. Oh, that is the name the niño has been given. As soon as Maria learned that he was not christened, she took both of us to the Cathedral to a priest she has befriended, Father Rodriguez. We were both witnesses as the boy (he must be three years old wouldn't you say?) was baptized, but there was some problem choosing a name. It was Father Rodriguez who made the final decision. Esteban. I think it suits him.

Time has passed and Father has become anxious to return to Portugal for he has a new voyage in mind. He has spent much time talking to Hisoka and has learned that, among the many places our strange friend has claimed to travel to, he has been to Cimpangu. I need not tell you how rewarding such a voyage could be and my father has convinced Hisoka to guide us there. Father hopes to make a treaty with the country's leaders and arrange a trade alliance that would increase Portugal's influence and wealth. But we have had something of a dilemma as to what we should do with Esteban. Maria's family is still very sick so we could not leave the boy with her. Father Rodriguez has offered to care for him until it is safe for him to live with Maria. He is a kind priest and I know he will take good care of the boy until they recover. Good luck to you, meu herói.

Andeanna Camões


End file.
